


In The Family Of Things

by knifelesbian



Category: Cloak & Dagger (TV 2018), Runaways (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Gert's Higher Further Faster Baby arc, Nico and Karolina getting better at this whole dating thing, Parental Death, Possession, and of course gert and chase yelling at each other, certain characters getting kidnapped for what feels like the bajillionth time, children who are very bad at being superheroes, delinquents bonding in New Orleans, masquerade balls, molly hernandez being a badass, my take on season three is finally here lads and it includes:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 102,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knifelesbian/pseuds/knifelesbian
Summary: You do not have to be good.You do not have to walk on your kneesfor a hundred miles through the desert repenting.You only have to let the soft animal of your bodylove what it loves.Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.Meanwhile the world goes on.Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rainare moving across the landscapes,over the prairies and the deep trees,the mountains and the rivers.Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,are heading home again.Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,the world offers itself to your imagination,calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -over and over announcing your placein the family of things.- Mary Oliver, Wild Geese.





	1. Wanna Take A Breath That's True

**Author's Note:**

> mandatory road trips, dreamscapes, and a family split apart.

The word ‘runaway’ is not one of singular meaning. To some, it could mean a 1970s all-female rock band. To others, it could mean a car, train, or vehicle of any kind that is accidentally allowed to roll away, causing individuals in its path to be in immediate peril. Of course, those described by the third and final definition and the one most commonly recognized,  a person who has run away, especially from their family or an institution, are not strangers to immediate peril. Or just regular peril. They are also acquainted with slow-moving peril, though it is far less commonplace. 

 

Alex Wilder, Nico Minoru, and Molly Hernandez, though, are quite familiar with slow moving peril at the moment. Their friends are gone, you see, and they’ve spent every moment since their capture looking over their shoulders and trying to figure out how to save them. Two were taken, one had left of his own accord, though Chase Stein is very much so regretting that decision, seeing as he is currently sedated in a glowing metal tube. Karolina Dean is in an identical tube, and is wishing she’d said three very important words to one very important person. 

 

Gert Yorkes has been abducted. The other five have no clue. 

 

**__________**

 

For a serial killer, Dale Yorkes is kind of a shitty kidnapper. Gert is wholly unsurprised by this. When she misbehaved as a child, she often got the good cop/bad cop routine, and Dale never had the balls to punish her with anything more than a slap on the wrist, so Stacey was usually the one to hide the book she was reading or take away dessert privileges. She was always the hard ass of the two.

 

Gert mouths her mother’s name, still getting used to how it feels. She’s decided that calling either of them by anything but their given names doesn’t feel right anymore. Anyone who has done what they have doesn’t deserve niceties. 

 

Dale, of course, hates this. He won’t say it, but she knows he does. He’s been trying his best to make this seem like a father-daughter bonding trip- hence the shitty kidnapper title- but Gert is Not Having It. He’s done it all; from letting her sit in shotgun to buying her new clothes to playing her favourite music. But Gert isn’t going to budge on this, not one bit. He took her away from her friends, her family, and now he’s just going to sit there and pretend that everything is fine? No way. Not on her watch.

 

“Are you alright, sweetie?” Dale asks, as if that isn’t a stupendously idiotic question. “You seem tired.”

 

Gert rolls her eyes. “No, really? I can’t imagine what could be keeping me awake! Could it be, say, the whole ‘getting abducted’ thing? How about not knowing whether my sister is okay? Or maybe it’s getting dumped, how about that-”

 

“Shhh, shhh,” Dale says, patting her arm to help her calm down. Even with the medication that Dale thankfully brought along, thinking about how absolutely fucked up her situation is makes her start to lose control. “Deep breaths.”

 

Gert shakes him off, the feeling of his hand on her skin enough to shock her out of the panic. She scoots closer to the door, trying to make herself as small as possible. “Don’t touch me.”

 

“I really don’t think that’s necessary, Gertrude.” He’s so  _ aggravating. _ It’s driving her mad. “I mean, I am your father.”

 

Gert lifts her chin haughtily. “Not biologically.”

 

His eyes narrow. “That’s not fair.”

 

“Why not? It’s only the truth. Biologically, we’re not related.” It might be petty to use the ‘you’re not my real dad’ card, but Gert doesn’t really care. Unlike him, she’s not one for pretending.

 

Dale sighs. “Gertrude, haven’t we talked about this? You know it’s hurtful to say that.”

 

“I think we’re passed ‘hurtful’, Dale.” Bringing up the fact that her real father was actually a sperm donor isn’t even the worst thing she could’ve said about his parenting. She could’ve talked about the neglect, or being made to feel inadequate for most of her childhood, or the blatant favouritism with Molly- you get the point. But this one doesn’t make her cry when she thinks about it, most of the time. She went through the ‘what if my real dad would love me more’ phase when she was thirteen, and she’s mostly over it. Mostly. 

 

“I suppose you’re right.”  _ Thank you. I know.  _ “...Subway for supper?”

 

Gert almost bursts out laughing at the deflection. “Uh, sure.”

 

See, this is why she’ll never budge on her hatred for him. At the very fucking _ least, _ the other PRIDE members know that what they do is wrong. They know they’re murderers, and they don’t care. But Dale and Stacey don’t see themselves as killers, they see themselves as unwitting victims, like PRIDE is some sort of pyramid scheme and not a  _ cult. _ It’s disgusting. 

 

She tugs at her ever present necklace, but, of course, that just brings up more bad thoughts. She remembers everything about when Chase gave it to her, right down to the words he said and the way his mouth felt against hers when she pulled him in for a kiss. It’s sick to say it, but she misses back then. She misses when he acted like he cared about her, she misses when she thought she might be falling in love with him, she misses when the biggest strain on their relationship was her lack of medication. It’s sick, it’s really sick- but that doesn’t stop her from sinking into the memory of that day, when everything felt right…

~~~~~

 

_ Gert had been trying to perfect the chords to  _ **_Fade Into You_ ** _ for the past half hour, and she was starting to fear that she was destined to fail. Maybe it was the guitar, second-hand and a little broken, or the way her hands hadn’t stopped shaking in days, but she just couldn’t seem to get it right.  _

 

_ She tried again, one last time. After this, she’d stop, Gert promised. She began to strum the first few chords- off to a good start, so far- then started to sing.  _ **_“I wanna hold the hand inside you, I wanna take a breath that’s true. I look to you, and I see nothing, I look to you and see the truth.”_ **

 

_ Gert grinned, hoping she had finally gotten the hang of it. _ **_“You live your life, you go in shadows. You’ll come apart, and you’ll go blind. Some kind of night into your darkness, colour your eyes with what’s not there.”_ ** _ She nodded to herself, proud that she hadn’t fucked up yet as she started the chorus.  _ **_“Fade into you. Strange you never knew. Fade into you, I think it’s strange you never knew-”_ **

 

_ There was a clapping sound from the doorway, and Gert looked up, startled. Chase was standing there, smiling in that way of his that majorly showed off his dimples and always set her heart a-pounding. “Oh my God, how long have you-” _

 

_ Chase shrugged. “Long enough.” He started to applaud her again, voice dripping in adoration as he called dramatically, “Bravo, bravo!” _ __   
  


_ Gert rolled her eyes, blushing. “Sap.” _

 

_ “Proudly so,” he said, approaching the bed and sitting beside her gingerly. “Um, hi.” _

 

_ Gert raised an eyebrow at him. Why did he so seem nervous all of the sudden? “Hi?” _

 

_ “So, uhm...” he started, fiddling with something in his hands. Gert put the guitar on the ground, leaning in to see what he was holding, but Chase kept it out of her line of sight. “I- I know that you’re having a lot of trouble, without your meds. And I hate that that’s happening to you, like, so much, you have no idea. So, um, I know it’s- I know it’s probably sort of dumb, but I made this for you. It’s got a bunch of rocks that are supposed to help keep you, um, calm, and stuff- Molly helped me pick them out.” _

 

_ He shoved something into her hands, looking away from her nervously. Gert looked down at it, tearing up at what she saw. “You- you made me a necklace?” _

 

_ Chase, still looking away from her, nodded. “Yeah. do you like it?” _

 

_ Gert reached out to cup his chin, turning his face back to her. “I love it.” _

 

_ He grinned. “You do?” _

 

_ Gert nodded, then leaned in, close enough that she could feel his breath on her lips. She rested her forehead against his for a moment, just enjoying the tenderness of it.  _

 

_ Chase reached up, carding a hand through her hair. “Is it okay if I kiss you now?” _

 

_ Gert huffed a laugh, then nodded, and Chase closed the short distance between them to press his mouth to hers. They were both smiling into it, and she still had the necklace clutched in one hand, so, to anyone else, it wouldn’t have been a particularly good kiss. But to her, it was perfect. _

 

~~~~~

 

Gert shakes herself out of the memory, cursing herself for how wet her eyes are. It’s not fair. He was supposed to stay, he was supposed to _ fight for her- _

 

Christ, she’s got to stop thinking about this. It’s going to break her fucking brain. She’s been stewing over it for so long that it feels like a part of her now, but she just can’t do it anymore. Gert is so tired of the heartbreak. 

 

**__________**

 

Molly can’t sleep. She hasn’t really been able to, not since Gert got snatched by the monsters masquerading as their parents, but it’s particularly bad tonight. It’s storming out, and the pounding of the rain against her window is keeping her awake. 

 

As a kid, she was terrified of thunderstorms. She’d cower under the covers at the first drop of rain, shaking like a leaf until it stopped or the sun rose, whichever came first. It got to the point that she’d sneak into Gert’s room and crawl into bed with her. Every time, she’d half expect her to kick her out, but Gert never did. She’d just scoop her up in her arms and hold her close until she fell asleep, humming the lullaby she’d made up just for Molly. 

 

There’s a boom of thumber what feels like only a few feet away, and she startles, grabbing Elian and clutching him close. She’s so glad she thought to bring him along. He helps with the loneliness, especially around now.

 

Since Chase left, nothing has been the same. Sure, it got way worse when Gert and Karolina were stolen away, but Chase leaving is where it started. She still doesn’t understand why he had to go. Were they not enough for him? What did they  _ do? _

As angry as she is at him, she wishes he would come home. Moreso, she wishes he would bring Gert with him. There’s no way in hell that he knows she’s locked up there- Molly knows  her brother him well enough to be able to say that and feel good about it. Well, not good. She’d feel a hell of a lot better if he’d wise up and find Gert and bring her home. But things don’t always go the way she wants them to. 

 

Lately, it feels like nothing does. 

 

**_________**

 

Alex has had this headache for the longest time, and he would very much like for it to stop. He thought it would have after sending his parents to rot in their cells, but it hasn’t. In fact, it only seems to have gotten worse. And worse. And worse. And- well, you get the point.

 

His current conditions certainly aren’t helping the pounding in his skull. Himself and his friends (and Leslie. He’s still not on board with having her around, but every time he tries to argue about it, he gets shut down) have been planning how to save Gert and Karolina for  _ days, _ now, and it’s stressing him out majorly. 

 

He misses when Livvie was around. She was so good at keeping him calm. That’s not to say that that’s the only reason he fell for her, though, because if she was here, Gert would stab him for delegating women’s roles to things that benefit the men in their lives. Of course, if Gert were here, maybe he wouldn’t have such a bad headache. She’d have probably told him to take an Ibuprofen by now, no matter how much he whined about diminishing their supplies, and that would have been that. 

 

Now the closest thing he’s got to the worry wart sister role she’d once filled is Nico, which is just...weird to think about. She’s already got her role, though it’s difficult to put into words sometimes. Unsurprising. Nico has never been one to be put in a box. Most of his other friends/allies/enemies are easy to sort, though. Molly, the optimistic do-gooder...or annoying little sister, depending on how you look at it. Karolina, his fellow isolationist. Xavin, who sure is...dedicated. Leslie, who’s dedicated in a very different way. And, of course, Chase, who’s still the lost little kid with no clue what he’s doing, even after all this time. When he left, Alex was disappointed, but not surprised. Like Gert, though in a very different way than her, he’d seen it coming. Gert had expected it because she’s insecure and thought he would leave her anyway, which is harsh, but the truth. Alex had expected it because Chase preferring the familiar road over the hard and bumpy one has always been and always will be the truth. 

 

Livvie is too wonderfully complicated to be put in any sort of box his mind would supply for her, which is probably why he likes her so much. He’s bad for her, though. He knows that. A girl like that deserves goose-down pillows and sunlit marble halls, not a grimy mansion and murderous cults. But most of all, a girl like that deserves a future. And Alex most likely won’t live past twenty-five,  so maybe it was best that she-

 

“Alexander, Nico is calling for you, and she seems upset.”

 

Alex startles, nearly falling out of his chair before righting himself and giving Xavin a hastily applied look of boredom. “Xav, Nico has been upset since- well, you know.”

 

It’s still hard to say it outloud, but Xavin understands. They’re good at that. “More than usual, though. I suggested she eat something, but she, erm, hissed at me.”

 

Alex shakes his head to himself. “She’s been doing that since we were kids. She starts to think she’s a vampire when she gets too sleep deprived. It should be fine.”

 

“Oh, well, um, she also said,” Xavin starts nervously, then scares the shit out of him as they shift into Nico wearing Daffy Duck pyjamas, “if he’s not down here within the next two minutes I’m going to tell everybody about the Orange Juice Incident.”

 

Xavin shakes themself, returning to their usual face. Alex sits there for about two seconds, now scared shitless times two. He blinks hard, then says, “Okay, let’s go. And Nico told you not to do that anymore, you know that.”

 

They shrug, giving him an uncaring look as he gets up out of his chair. “What she doesn’t know about won’t hurt her.”

 

Alex raises an eyebrow, surprised by the thoroughly human saying. “Where’d you hear that one?”

 

Xavin frowns, following him as he heads in the direction of the kitchen. “The colourful box in the common room. With the, um…”

 

There’s an odd noise behind him, and he turns around to find- “Holy shit, I Love Lucy? Oh my God, my mom would-“

 

Alex pauses, his throat catching, and Xavin shifts back from Lucille Ball wearing a poofy purple dress into their usual face and fluffy bathrobe. They step closer, putting a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs them off with a frustrated sound. It’s not fair, he’s not supposed to  _ miss _ them. They’re in jail, they’re going to be in jail for the rest of the lives, and he’s the one who put them there. He should feel pride, not...this. He shouldn’t wish for them back. He  _ shouldn’t. _

 

“Alexander, are you okay?” Xavin asks, putting their hand on his shoulder again. This time, he doesn’t shrug them off. 

 

He gives them an awkward smile. “Fine, I’m fine-“

 

“ALEX, IS THAT YOU? GET IN HERE!”

 

Grateful for the deus ex machina that’s just saved him from talking about his feelings, Alex follows Nico’s voice into the kitchen.

 

She’s sitting cross legged, glaring at the sink pipes. When she hears him enter, she grumbles, “Took you long enough. The sink is busted again.”

 

“Ah, shit.” He strides over and plops down next to her, examining the rusty pipes. “What is it this time?”

 

Nico makes an affronted noise. “Do I look like I know? Why else would I call for you?”

 

Okay, ouch. He rolls his eyes, pretending that didn’t hurt. “Well, uh, thanks, for that, but-“

 

Nico winces. “That’s not- that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. You’re- you’re a valued member of our family and I am glad to have you. I’m just…”

 

“Tired. I know.” And he does. Nico hasn’t slept a wink in days. “Just...I know I’m, like, the least important, but-“

 

“You’re not!” She squawks. “Everyone has their place here. Seriously, dude.”

 

Alex raises an eyebrow, amused. “Since when are you Funshine Bear?”

 

“Don’t be a dickbag. I just- since all that happened...happened, I’ve realized that maybe we should’ve been nicer to Chase? Or at least, like,  _ included  _ him, Christ, I mean-“

 

“Neeks, Chase leaving wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own.” You wouldn’t expect her to, but Nico kind of has a soft spot for Chase. She also has a tendency to take responsibility for things she has no control over.

 

Nico sighs. “I know. And I know- I know we’re all supposed to be super pissed at him, and I am, I promise- dude fucked up. I’m just worried, I guess.”

 

“Do you think…” he trails off, unsure of how to word this. “Do you think if he asked to come back, you’d let him?”

 

“Maybe if he agreed to fix the sink.” 

 

Alex laughs softly. “This type of stuff was always his job...I can’t think of a single day where he wasn’t spending at least half of it fixing something up.”

 

“Yeah,” Nico says. There’s something melancholic in the air, now- so thick he can almost feel it on his skin. “Usually with Gert breathing down his neck with a thousand different questions-”

 

“And not one of them would be related to the thing he was working on.”

 

They both laugh a little, but it dies fast. It’s hard to tease their friends when they don’t even know if they’re safe. It’s hard to do much of anything, really- uncertainty and fear hangs over them constantly, held in place by a delicate thread that threatens to break at any moment.

 

Nico sighs, then leans against him a little, resting her head on his shoulder. “What if...what if she’s not okay, Al? What am I gonna do then?”

 

She doesn’t say the name- almost like she can’t bear it. But Alex knows who she’s talking about. “It doesn’t matter. We’re gonna bring her home, Nico. We’re gonna bring them  _ all  _ home.”

 

A tear slips down her cheek. “I hope you’re right.”

 

**__________**

 

_“Mommy, can we go home? I don’t like parties,” Chase said, tugging on his mother’s sleeve. He didn’t want to go to some stupid party where he had to be polite and wasn’t allowed to eat any of the fancy food, he wanted to go play pirates with Gert and Molly. Molly may have been littler than him, but she was the_ ** _best_** _Blackbeard._ _“Can’t I go over to the Yorkes’ instead?”_

 

_ Mommy smiled in a secret kind of way. “But they’re here at the party! Why would you want to go to an empty house?” _

 

_ Chase gasped, suddenly desperate to get out of his carseat and open the door. He struggled with it for a few moments, before his mother got out of the car herself and came around to open the door for him. He jittered in place as she undid the seatbelt, then leapt out of the car as fast as possible.  _

 

_ As soon as he escaped, he started bounding towards the cordoned off area of the park, a PRIDE sign stuck in the grass just outside it. He was running so fast that it felt like he was flying, not caring a whit as his mother called after him, telling him to slow down, Chase. Be careful, Chase. But Chase didn’t want to slow down. He was a rocket, he was a racecar, he was- _

 

_ Crashing right into an unsuspecting Gert. OOPS!  _

 

_ They both tumbled to the ground with a loud crash. Gert made a surprised noise, the book she’d been reading flying out of her hands as they hit the grass,  _ **_hard._ **

 

_ “Chase, what the heck?!?” She asked, glaring at him as she sat up. She was really pretty when she was angry. “That hurt!” _

 

_ “Sorry,” he said as he clambered to his feet, dusting himself off. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” _

 

_ He held out a hand to help her up, and Gert grabbed it, pulling herself back to standing. “You didn’t see me.” _

 

_ “You’re right,” he said, giving her an apologetic smile, “I didn’t.” _

 

~~~~~

 

When Chase’s eyes flutter open, Gert’s voice, eight years younger but  _ hers, _ is still ringing in his ears. When he looks around, he finds that it’s not the only thing stolen from that memory. He’s standing under a tree in Griffith Park, dappled sunlight coming down through the vibrant green leaves. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the park is lush...and empty. He’s never seen it this empty, not even on the coldest day of the year. There’s always  _ somebody- _ an old person, a hipster walking their dog, at least a few joggers. But today, nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

 

Wait, what  _ is  _ today? What month is it? What  _ year? _

 

And just like that, everything comes flooding back. Leaving his friends, breaking Gert’s heart, his father being the _ exact fucking same, _ no matter what he did. No matter what he tried. Part of that was probably whatever the fuck was happening with the...alien stuff, if that’s what it was- his brain is foggy- but even under that, Victor Stein was still 100% himself. Charismatic, charming, and a master of manipulating those around him to do his bidding. 

 

Chase never should have left. There wasn’t even a point to it- Gert was right. He’s a coward, who thought that things would change if they were all together again. But they weren’t, and they were never going to be. Chase is just...never going to be enough for his father, is he? He could pull the moon down from the sky and present it to him on a silver platter, and dear old Dad would still question why it wasn’t gold, or reprimand him for not getting him the stars, too. 

 

It’s not fair. None of it’s fair. But, hey, at least he’s got a beautiful place to sulk about it. Half his childhood was spent in Griffith Park, but this particular day- marked by the roped off area where a bouncy castle, huge snack table, and gazebo where an abandoned face painting station resides- was definitely one for the books. The whole day was amazing, from getting a blue butterfly painted on his cheek (to show Molly that the face paint lady really wasn’t that scary), to bouncing around in the bouncy castle until he felt lightheaded, to stuffing himself with pigs-in-a-blanket and hushpuppies. But his favourite part was when Gert had him braid her hair. She said it was because she couldn’t find Karolina to do it, but Chase was just happy he was the one she asked. He still remembers how her hair felt between his fingers. 

 

Of course, he gets bored quickly. There’s only so much to do in this little roped off area, and walking farther away into the trees yields...odd results. He’d only walked maybe five feet into the woods when the next step he took led him right back where he started. It was like a fold in space-time, which would be extremely, extremely cool if this place was, like, real.

 

He’s not completely certain where he is, but he knows it’s not  _ actually  _ Griffith Park. That would be absurd. It’s far more likely that this is some sort of purgatory, which would mean that he’s dead, and that- wait. He hadn’t come to this conclusion before now.  _ Is  _ he dead? What the fuck,  _ is he dead???  _

 

Chase sits down in the grass, flopping back and looking up at the sky. Despite how long he’s been here, it’s stayed a clear, perfect blue the entire time. Because the atmosphere simply doesn’t work that way, he knows that this is, quite literally, impossible. So, he’s probably dead. Dreaming, maybe, but it’s unlikely. The PRIDE sign was perfectly readable, as were the labels on the snacks, and everyone knows that you can’t read anything in dreams. The part of the brain responsible for logic and intellect totally gives up the goat the minute you shut your eyes, and every word you see becomes jumbled. So he can’t be dreaming. Which means that...yeah. Chase Stein is dead. Chase Stein won’t ever get to see his family. He’ll never get to apologize for his mistakes. He’ll never get to hug Molly again. And, of course, Chase won’t ever get to get over his fears and tell Gert just how much he loves her. And that might be the worst thing of all, because he loves her so  _ fucking  _ much. 

 

And now he can’t fix it, he can’t apologize, he can’t explain anything... because he’s dead. Gert probably doesn’t even know, either. How could she? How could any of them? In their minds, he’s still with PRIDE. In their minds, he’s still a traitor. They have no reason to wonder about him, they have no reason to give a shit. They’re all safe and sound back at the Hostel, moving on without him. Chase wonders if they’re happier now that he’s gone. He never felt like he fit, with them. Always the outsider looking in, never really...  _ part _ of it. Any of it. It was like he was the annoying neighbour instead of part of the family. Fuck, was he Steve Urkel? Shit, he was totally Steve Urkel. 

 

Well, he supposes it doesn’t matter now. He’s gone, and without him, they can all go on with their happy little family of theirs. 

 

**__________**

 

“Molly, if you don’t turn off that  _ shit  _ right the fuck now, I am going to throw you out on the street.”  

 

Molly turns to her, glaring. Notably, she has  _ not  _ turned off the television. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

 

Nico’s eyes narrow. “You really want to do this right now?”

 

“What I want is for you to stop being pissy at me just because Karolina is-”

 

Nico sucks in a breath, feeling like she’s been punched in the stomach.  _ “Don’t.” _

 

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t- that wasn’t fair.” The fight has gone out of her, now, shoulders drooping. She pulls her knees up to her chest, looking remorseful.  _ Good.  _

 

Nico crosses her arms, raising her chin haughtily. It’s the only way to avoid crying right now. “What else?”

 

“Ugh, fine!” Molly says. She heaves a sigh as she reaches for the remote, then flicks off the television. “You’re so-”

 

She arches an eyebrow. “I’m so what?”

 

Molly shrinks into the couch. “Nothing.”

 

“That’s what I thought.”

 

Nico stalks out of the room, zooming up the stairs and into her bedroom-  _ their  _ bedroom, that they  _ shared- _ and flopping down onto the bed. She presses her face into a pillow and lets out a frustrated scream, long and loud. It turns into sobs not long after, because Nico Minoru is a weak little bitch with way too much dependance on her absentee girlfriend. 

 

God, she wishes she was here right now. Karolina wouldn’t do what she just did, wouldn’t go ice cold on a fifteen year old with the tv a little too loud, wouldn’t be the spitting image of her  _ fucking  _ mother,  _ again. _ No matter how many times she swears up and down that she’s nothing like her, she’s wrong. They’re exactly the same, aren’t they? Both cold, both shit at talking things through, both-

 

“Nico?” 

 

She groans in response to Leslie, then says, muffled, “Go away.”

 

“Well, you know I can’t do that.” There’s a shuffling sound, and then the bed dips as Leslie sits down on the edge. “Come on, talk to me.”

 

“I don’t wanna,” she grumbles, but does it anyway, flipping over onto her back and glaring up at her. “So? What do you need?”

 

_ “I _ don’t need anything. But I’ve got a feeling that you could use someone to talk to.” Leslie raises her eyebrows, waiting, and it’s such a quintessentially Karolina move that Nico’s chest seizes up.

 

“I’m- I’m fine.” Leslie should just go away, honestly. Nico doesn’t need a new mother, she already had one and it went terribly. 

 

Leslie’s eyes crinkle up at the corners as she gives her a closed mouth smile. “I miss her too, you know.”

 

Ordinarily, Nico would have snapped. She would have lashed out at Leslie, a  _ murderer,  _ a liar and a shitty mother, for pretending to understand just how deeply Karolina's absence hurt. But instead of that anger boiling to the surface (even though it's there, simmering, waiting), she just feels tired. So, so tired. She's tired of being angry and she's tired of lashing out, but more importantly, she's tired of hurting and being alone. “We have to get her back.”

 

“We will,” Leslie says softly, “we will.”

 

**__________**

 

_ “I don’t want to go back yet. Can’t we just stay on watch?” _

 

_ Nico smirked, and her heart started pounding. “Karrie, if we do, then neither of us will get any sleep.” _

 

_ Karolina sighed, looking out at the sprawling view of the city. This late in the night, even Los Angeles looked peaceful, and God knew they needed some peace after the day they’d had. Getting framed for a murder you didn’t commit definitely isn’t the calmest of experiences.  _

 

_ She looked down at their entwined hands, studying the rings on Nico’s fingers. “Yeah, but...I like being out here with you.” _

 

_ “Alone time with your girlfriend sure is nice, I agree, but-” _

 

_ Karolina choked on air, surprised. “G-girlfriend?” _

 

_ Nico’s eyes went wide as saucers. “Is that...is that not what we are? I thought-” _

 

_ “No, no, of course I want to be your- I’m sorry, I just got surprised. It’s the first time you’ve called me that.” Her face was so red that it made her grateful for the dark.  _

 

_ “Is it?” Karolina nodded. “Oh. Guess I’ll have to fix that then...girlfriend.” _

 

_ Her face broke into a grin. “Happy to hear it, girlfriend.” _

 

_ Nico laughs, and it’s the best sound in the world.  _

 

~~~~~

 

When Karolina’s eyes open, her face is wet with tears. As she takes in her surroundings, they continue to stream down her face, and when she realizes that she’s sitting in the exact spot where her and Nico once kept watch, innocent and stupid, the tears turn into outright sobs. It’s not fair. She should be back at the Hostel, telling her girlfriend she loves her, not...wait. How the fuck did she even get here? She looks down at herself, and realizes that she’s wearing the yellow tank top and bell bottoms from when they first left. 

 

The tears stop abruptly. What the fuck is going on?

 

She stands, dusting herself off and then taking a look around the area. She doesn’t get far. Once she walks about 20 feet away from the log where her and Nico once sat, there’s some sort of weird fold in time, and she ends up right back where she started. Huh? 

 

“Ah, Karolina, my dear. How are you enjoying your stay?”

 

She whips around at the sound of her father’s voice, flabbergasted to find Victor Stein as the source instead, before remembering the events prior to...whatever the hell is happening right now.

 

“Dad...what’s going on?”

  
  
  



	2. Things Half In Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> people falling, stakeouts, and runaway dinosaurs.

Karolina feels off kilter. Shaken. Her father has just told her The Plan, and everything she has ever thought or felt about him is completely refocusing. Well, ‘focus’ is probably the wrong word to use there, because really, Karolina feels anything but focused. Her brain is foggy and weird, and she can’t tell whether it’s from Jonah’s big long explanation or the fact that tacked onto the end of that explanation were the words,  _ ‘also, none of this is real.’ _

 

She recovers, sorta, and asks, “What- what do you mean? Is this, like- oh, wait, what’s that movie called? ...Inception! Is this like Inception?”

 

Jonah-as-Victor smiles wanly, and her stomach churns. Was he this creepy in his old body? “In a way. You’re...sick, Karolina. And this dreamworld is a place for you to stay while you get better. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

 

Her shoulders come up to her ears. “It’d be a lot better with some company.”

 

“Lonely, are you?” Karolina doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, but he seems to know what she’s thinking anyway. “Well, that’s not new, is it? You’ve never been one for friends.”

Her brows crease. “How in the world would you know that? It’s not like you were ever around.”

 

He laughs, and it sounds like a dying goose. “Because you and I are the same, Karolina.”

 

“I am nothing like you.” She shifts, the pent up anger making her restless. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten about the log at her feet, and goes tumbling with a yelp- right into him. But she’d caught him off guard too, and Jonah, who’d been standing at the very ledge of the cliff, stumbles back, and back, and back...right off the cliff side.

 

She pulls herself to her feet, wondering why she doesn’t feel guilty at the sound of him screaming. Perhaps it’s because she knows that none of this is real, and that he’s not actually hurt- or maybe it’s because his fearful wailing sounds a hell of a lot like  _ vindication. _

 

**__________**

 

Louisiana is sticky. Nevada was dry, Arizona and New Mexico were dusty, Texas was loud, and Louisiana is sticky. They’re taking the ‘scenic route’ to the Yucatan, which means Gert is getting a forced tour of the country’s most boring states. It’s been run of the mill so far, but Louisiana is different. Again,  _ sticky. _ And drowsy, too- every time she rolls down her window she wants to take a nap. It would be annoying under normal circumstances, but when she’s trying to plan an escape with her dickbag father looking over her shoulder the entire time, it’s downright  _ aggravating. _ She doesn’t want to be sleepy, she wants to be energized! Focused! On the ball! 

 

She breathes in more Louisiana air, and droops against the seat. Much more of this, and she’s going to melt into a puddle of faded purple goo. 

 

After a few more miles, despite her best efforts, she falls asleep, and when she wakes up next they’re in a city. Well, not just a city,  _ the  _ city, the one that Louisiana is  _ known  _ for. She’s seen enough pictures of the cobblestone streets and Colonial style buildings to know that they’re in New Orleans. It’s kind of annoying, honestly, because she’s always wanted to come here. Just not like  _ this. _

 

She rolls down her window to take a better look, and Dale chuckles nervously. “Hey, roll that back up. It’s, uh, it’s too warm here sweetie.”

 

Gert does as he asks, glaring. “You just don’t want me calling for help.”

 

Dale sets his jaw, eyes on the road. “Call for help all you want. I’m your legal guardian, remember?”

 

_ Right.  _ “Fine. Whatever. This is New Orleans, right?”

 

“You got it. Home of the beignet and Mardi Gras.”

 

Gert eyes a pedestrian drinking out of a brown bagged bottle. “And a shit ton of alcohol.”

 

“That too.” 

 

“Are we just passing through, or can we actually sleep in a motel tonight? Please say yes.” Maybe a good night’s rest will stop the drowsiness and let her come up with a few decent ideas. 

 

Dale pauses, then says, “Well, I wasn’t planning on it…”

 

Gert pulls out her best puppy dog eyes. “Please? I’m  _ so  _ tired, Dad.”

 

Dale, looking pleased to be called that, says, “Alright, if you insist. But no running off, okay?”

 

Gert sighs, whipping out her acting skills to look as helpless as possible. “Where would I go?” 

 

~~~~~

 

Unfortunately, New Orleans motels are not as #aesthetic as the rest of the city- or at least this one isn’t, anyway. It’s the cheapest one in the city, actually- it even advertises itself as such. Gert can deal with the water stains and suspicious-looking bathroom if it means an easier escape, though. A motel with the same decor as it had in the 1970s isn’t likely to have high profile security. 

 

They pick up something that Dale calls ‘street meat’ for supper, which Gert only pretends to eat before spitting it out into her napkin when he’s not looking. This proves to be a good choice when, a few hours later, Dale comes down with food poisoning. 

 

He stumbles to the bathroom, closing the door behind him before presumably puking his guts out. The sound is enough to make her feel a little sick herself, but she can’t let an upset stomach get in the way of this golden opportunity. As soon as she’s sure he’s completely distracted, she grabs her meds and a bundle of cash and slips out the window, quiet as a mouse. 

 

Gert pulls her hood up, speed-walking to where the car is parked. She considers taking it, then dismisses the idea for fear that Dale would report it stolen and she’d be the subject of a police chase. Instead, she trots to the attached trailer, where Old Lace has been trapped for days now. Sensing her, Old Lace keens, and Gert shushes her, looking around for something to break the lock with. Her eyes land on a particularly large rock near the curb, and she hefts it over to the lock, dropping it down onto it and breaking it with a clang. She looks over the shoulder, wary of the noise, then opens the trailer door. Old Lace bounds out immediately, nearly knocking her to the ground as she starts licking her face excitedly. 

 

“Okay, okay, down, girl,” Gert whispers, and Old Lace obliges, tongue still lolling. “Good girl.”

 

She swallows, patting Old Lace’s head miserably. She knows what she has to do, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. “You have to go, okay? Go home, where you’ll be safe. K-keep to the alleyways, and, um, stay in the shadows.”

 

Old Lace keens, refusing to budge, and Gert turns away from her, pointing in the opposite direction. “Go.”

 

Slowly, Old Lace starts to trot away, looking back every few seconds with big, sad eyes. Gert forces herself to look away, because if she doesn’t, Old Lace won’t leave, and she’ll still be in danger, and we can’t have that, can we?

 

Eventually, Old Lace gets the hint and runs into an alleyway, and as soon as she does, Gert bursts into tears. But she can’t just stay here and wallow. Dale will come out soon looking for her, and she has to be gone before he does. 

 

She starts jogging away from the lights of the motel, telling herself not to sprint lest run out of energy too quickly. She trots along, looking for a bus stop or a hostel (ouch. That hurt to think about) or anywhere that would mean Dale wouldn’t be able to find her. But after a while, she realizes that she’s kind of running out of options. It seems like in this part of town, there’s not really any way out. 

 

She looks around again, and spots a ladder on the wall of an old factory building. Maybe there’s no way out, but there  _ is  _ a way up.

 

Feeling more than a little foolish, Gert starts climbing, hoping to God she doesn’t fall. One that would be embarrassing, and two, it would probably hurt, like, a lot. Luckily, she all but lived on the monkey bars as a kid, so she makes it to the rooftop with only aching limbs and not broken ones.

 

Gert stretches, surveying her surroundings, and then starts walking. She might actually just keep walking, now that she’s up where no one can find her. It’s peaceful here. Quiet. She feels like she understands Bert from Mary Poppins a little more, now. Ha, Bert and Gert. What a funny coincidence. 

 

Under her breath, she mumble/sings as she walks, just for something to do. She’s on her fourth round of pretending to know the lyrics when the flat factory rooftops change to shorter, more dilapidated buildings. 

 

_ “Up where the smoke is all billered and curled, 'tween pavement and stars is the chimney sweep world,” _ she sings softly, the familiar words providing comfort.  _ “When there's hardly no day, nor hardly no night. There's things 'alf in shadow, and 'alfway in light. On the rooftops of London-” _

She cuts herself off with a scream as the spot beneath her collapses without warning, sending her through the newly made hole and rapidly falling, falling, falling.

 

Gert crashes to the ground with a crash and a loud string of expletives that would make even the most uncouth want to wash her mouth out with soap. Once she recovers from the initial shock of it, she sits up, rubbing her now bruised tailbone and wondering how in the world she didn’t break anything just then. 

 

She looks around, and finds that she seems to be in an old, abandoned church. It’s dark, so she can’t see a lot, but it seems pretty clean. It’s not too cold here, either, which is good. Means she might actually be able to get some sleep. 

 

Gert stands reluctantly, planning on finding a nice corner to curl up in when there’s a voice from behind her. 

 

“Who the hell are you?” She turns, finding a Black boy in a dark hoodie near the entrance, holding a bag of Cheetos in his clenched fist.

 

“I’m sorry, I can- I can leave.” She doesn’t want to, but she also doesn’t have the energy to fight someone over a hideout right now.

 

“I didn’t tell you to leave,” the guy says, shoulders up to his ears. Oh. He’s just as scared as she is, isn’t he? “I asked who you were.”

 

She gives him a small smile, feeling a little calmer. “The name’s Gert. You?”

 

“Ty. Ty Johnson.”

 

A little cautiously, she approaches him, sticking out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ty-Ty Johnson.”

 

Ty cracks a smile, then shakes her hand. His grip is firm but careful, and he’s wearing a pair of well-loved knit gloves. “You’re funny.”

 

“Thank you, I try.” She lets go of his hand, feeling a lot less on edge, now. “So, is it cool if I…”

 

“Yeah, sure. It’s pretty safe, here, so long as you don’t mind sharing.”

 

Gert shakes her head, grinning. “I don’t.”

 

His words roll around in her head again, shaping into something soft and a little lovely.  _ Safe. _ She likes the sound of that.

 

**__________**

 

“Are you sure that this is, like, safe?” Molly asks from the passenger seat of the Rolls, peering out the window anxiously.

 

Alex drums his fingers against the wheel, equally nervous and hiding it badly. “Safe as life.”

 

From the backseat, because she was a slowpoke and Molly called shotgun, Nico says, “Shut up, Alex, I read The Raven Cycle, too.”

 

Alex’s eyes go wide in pleasant surprise. “No way, really?”

 

_ “Alex.  _ I  _ bought _ you the first book.”

 

Molly snorts, and Xavin, who is sat next to Nico, much to the other’s chagrin, says, “I do not understand. What is a raven cycle and how does one read it?”

 

Molly cracks a smile. “It’s a book series, Xav. Like Harry Potter, but more pretentious.”

 

“Ah.” Xavin nods in understanding. “Harry Potter is about the boy wizard with odd choice in eyewear, yes?”

 

“You got it.” 

 

Alex drums against the steering wheel again. “So, uhm, they should be around at some point, and we can, uhm, document their schedules, y’know, if we do this enough times-“

 

Nico rolls her eyes. “Dude. I am not hiding in the bushes for a month and a half for some stake out bullshit.”

 

Alex cracks a smile. “I mean, we’d go home to sleep.”

 

Nico rushes forward with a frustrated yell, reaching out to grab blindly at his neck. Molly quite calmly grabs her by the back of the shirt and deposits her back in her seat. 

 

Nico gapes at her, ready to start screaming her head off, but Molly levels her with a cool look. “Stop that.”

 

“Need I remind you,” Nico says coldly, “that I am two years older than you?”

 

“Act like it then, maybe?” Damn, the look Nico is giving her right now could probably freeze the sun. 

 

“Both of you, stop it,” Alex says, “when I said surveillance I meant like, a week, tops. Chill out.”

 

“Oh.” Though she hadn’t noticed her holding it, Molly sees her casually drop a large rock out the open window. Where did she even  _ get  _ that? “Well, that’s not too bad.”

 

Alex’s eyes go wide. “...Were you going to hit me with that?”

 

“I hadn’t decided yet.” 

 

There’s a long bout of silence, which means that Molly gets bored as hell within the first fifteen minutes. 

 

“Yo, Xav, do you wanna go get snacks with me?” There’s a corner store down the road from here, and she’s starved.

 

Before they can respond, Alex says, “You are not leaving this damn car.”

 

Molly rolls her eyes. “Okay,  _ dad.  _ I was just gonna go to the 7/11 down the street, but if you think I can’t handle walking places even with an  _ escort-“ _

 

“Oh, fine, fine, do you want. Pull up your hood, though.” Molly does as he asks, then drags Xavin out of the car to trek through the woods with her. They get kind of dirty, but, hey, she’d rather muddy boots than her murderous parents. 

 

They enter the store, and Molly makes a beeline for the chip aisle, Xavin trotting after her. She surveys the selection with a careful eye, then asks, “Any suggestions?”

 

Xavin twists their mouth up, then points to a bag of Bugles. “What are those? I enjoy the shape.”

 

Molly giggles. “I can assure you, you won’t like the taste nearly as much. They’re made, like, entirely out of salt, and you said you didn’t like the pretzel sticks we bought last week.”

 

“Ah. True. I am intrigued by the ‘soft’ pretzels you told me about, though. They seem...fascinating.”

 

She grins. “I think they have them here.”

 

Xavin gasps. “Really?”

 

They end up getting pretzels; cinnamon sugar for Molly, dill pickle for Xavin, and they’re delicious as they always are. There’s just something about food from the heated display case that always makes her feel so warm inside. Probably the radiation.

 

They trek back as they eat, and Molly cautiously asks, “Hey, can I ask you something personal?”

 

Xavin’s eyebrows go up in curiosity. “I suppose. What is it?”

 

“So, um- I mean, I’m not really sure, I’ve- we’ve- just been using- but I’m not sure it’s what you’d-” Molly sucks in a slow breath, trying to rid herself of how flustered she feels. “What pronouns do you use?”

 

Xavin blinks. “Pronouns?”

 

“Well, yeah. I don’t know if that’s, like, a thing where you’re from? But here, we use different pronouns for different people. Generally, people use she/her, he/him, or they/them, and, um, we’ve all been using they/them for you? Because of the whole shapeshifter deal? Or I have, anyway. I just wanted to know if you were comfortable with that, or if you’d, y’know, prefer something else.” Wow, that was surprisingly eloquent. Maybe all those tuned out rants from Gert had some payoff after all.

 

Xavin is quiet for a moment, thinking. “I suppose that fits, yes. It feels more...neutral, than the other two. I like that.”

 

Molly gives them a small smile. “I’m glad.”

 

**__________**

 

Alex is pretty sure he’s hallucinating right now. He’s grocery shopping- that’s not the hallucination, they just needed snacks- and he keeps hearing this...sound. Like growling, or something, all rumbly and omnipresent.  _ Omnipresent. _ That’s a Gert word, isn’t it?

 

He would never say it out loud, but he really misses Gert. Only she could make 11PM grocery runs enjoyable, with her informational lectures on Plato, or the Cold War, or Animorphs. But now he’s here, alone, trying to remember if Molly asked him to get apples or oranges. He knows he asked her, he  _ knows  _ he did- but the answer completely escapes him. This wouldn’t upset him so much if this wasn’t a common occurrence. There have been empty spots in his memory, lately, and it’s freaking him out- they’re small, only half hours or less, but it still feels like a lot. 

 

He ends up going with the apples. Pink Ladies, obviously, because he knows she likes the name, and they’re by far the best tasting apples.

 

From behind him, an all too familiar voice asks, “Pink Ladies, huh? A man of taste.”

 

He whips around, eyes wide. Livvie is standing not five feet from him, a ghost in purple plaid pyjama pants. “Oh my God, hi!”

 

Alex immediately straightens, trying to make himself a bit more presentable, and Livvie laughs. It’s a beautiful sound. “Hey, Al. what are you doing in my grocery store?”

 

“Your- your grocery store? I didn’t- I didn’t know you went here, I swear, we just- y’know, we try and switch it up when we go shopping? And by we I mean me, I guess. Gert used to come, but- never mind. Anyway, how are you?”

 

She laughs again. His face feels really, really warm. “I’m doing pretty good.”

 

“How’s, your, um, your hair stuff? Have you gotten into stores yet?” He shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward and guilty, as is her effect. She’s so  _ good. _ She’s so good, and he’s so, so bad. 

 

“We have. They sell it here, actually.” She’s so pretty. Alex wants to hug her so bad right now. He won’t, because he knows she doesn’t want that, but it needs to be said. 

 

“Wow, no way, I’ll have to pick some up.”

 

“Another happy customer.” She cracks a smile, sunny and warm, and for a moment, they just grin at each other. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. Livvie startles at the sound of another rumble-  _ so I  _ **_wasn’t_ ** _ hallucinating- _ then says, “Well, I guess I better go.”

 

Alex nods, and Livvie starts to walk away- but he can’t let her go just yet. “Wait, Livvie.”

 

She turns, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

 

Nervously, he steps closer to her. Apparently this needs to be said, too. “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dragging you into our mess, and I’m sorry for not being honest, and I’m just  _ sorry, _ okay?”

 

Livvie’s eyes pinch at the corners. “This better not be some- some ploy to ask me out. Tamar said no, and I’m listening to her.”

 

Alex smiles, a little sadly. “It’s not. I just wanted you to know. How is she, by the way? And the baby?”

 

“They’re doing well.” She looks away from him, but he can still see that her eyes are wet. “Listen, Alex…”

 

And then she’s hugging him. It’s quick, and tight, so tight that Alex feels like his bones are falling back into place after weeks of uncomfortable shifting. He barely has the time to hug back before she’s pulling away, leaving his sweater smelling like coconut and shea butter. 

 

She gives him an awkward little salute, then backs away from him. By the time he recovers, she’s gone.

 

Alex buys the jar of hair product along with the rest of the groceries, then heads home, feeling lighter than air. Once he reaches the Hostel, he carries the groceries to the kitchen, dancing along to the music on the radio as he starts putting things away. 

 

And that’s when he hears the growling again.

 

Alex whips around, and- “Holy shit, Old Lace?”   
  


**__________**

 

“So, Old Lace has returned,” Nico says, business-like and sensible despite the time. Upon discovering the returned dinosaur, Alex had woken up the entire house. This seems a bad decision to Nico, if only for Leslie’s sake. She’s a lot farther along, now, and she needs all the rest she can get.

 

But that’s irrelevant, now. Everyone’s awake, and there’s nothing to be done about it. Once they get this sorted, they’ll all go back to bed and sleep in the next morning.

 

The problem: getting it sorted.

 

Molly pauses her petting of Old Lace to say, “I wonder where she was before?”

 

Leslie blearily squints at her. “As in, you think she wasn’t with PRIDE?”

 

“Well, she didn’t have any sort of tracking apparatus,” Alex says from his seat next to Molly. He’s absolutely  _ covered _ in dinosaur slime.

 

“But that’s not enough to rule it out, is it?” Nico bites her lip, thinking. “She could’ve pulled off a tracking collar on her own, right? It’s not like she isn’t smart enough for it.”

 

Molly screws up her mouth. “Well, yeah...but how would she have escaped in the first place?”

 

“I don’t think that’s the right question.” Nico blinks at Alex, silently asking,  _ well, enlighten us, then.  _ “I think the right question is: did someone let her go?”

 

**___________**

 

Chase is sick of waiting. He’s dead, he  _ knows  _ he’s dead- so can’t the universe just let him pass over?

 

He’s tired of this place. There’s only so many ways to spend his nonlinear time, and at this point, it’s just boiled down to thinking about all the people he’s left behind. All the people he disappointed.

 

Of course, Gert is at the very top of this list. She was right- Chase  _ is  _ a coward. He’s a coward, who decided that his father’s conditional love mattered more than his family, than the most important person in the world to him. What was he  _ thinking?  _ All he wanted was to finally, finally have parents who loved him, and it all went to shit immediately. 

 

Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? Before all of this started, every other one of his friends had parents who loved them, who helped with homework and put bandages on scratched knees. He’s wanted that so bad for his  _ entire life,  _ but maybe he’s just not worth it. Maybe he’s not good enough to be worthy of loving parents. Everyone else seems to believe so. 

 

He thinks that maybe it’s easier to throw something away when you know what you’re doing. You’ve had it, and you decided that you don’t want it anymore- and you can know definitively that it’s the right choice. But when you’ve ached for something your entire life, is it so bad to take any chance you get to have it? Is it so bad to want to be loved?

 

_ When it’s hurting you,  _ **_yes,_ ** says the sensible voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Gert.  _ The way they treat you isn’t love.  _

 

He hates that it’s right. Gert, imaginary voice in his head or no, usually is about these things. His parents don’t love him. This is a fact of life that he needs to buck up and face, because it’s never going to change. He’s given them a thousand and one chances, but they disregard each one. They don’t care about treating him well so long as he’s in their clutches. That’s the only thing that matters to them- and yes, he means  _ them _ as in two. His mother is just as much at fault as his father, to him, even if she never put hands on him. If he had the luxury of being objective, he would understand that she’s only dragging him back because she doesn’t want to face Victor alone. But he can’t be objective, because Chase has always, always been alone against his father.

 

_ It was supposed to be you and me, Mom. Why was it never you and me?  _

 

He wants to say that he hopes that she got out alive. But, if he’s being honest, truly, truly honest, he almost hopes that she’s in the same boat as him. Miserable together,  _ finally. _

 

**__________**

 

Janet is in the hospital where Chase was born, sitting up in bed and thinking about that day, again. It was a cold, sunny morning when he was born, and he came out easier than she’d expected. Of course, life became way more complicated after that, so maybe somebody up there was just giving her a nice break. 

 

There’s a knock at the door, which is uncommon, to say the least. She’s been alone since she got here.

 

“Come in!” She calls, and the door pushes open to reveal her husband, tray of lime jello in hand. “Oh, hello.”

 

“Good morning, Nettie,” Victor says, and she startles. It’s been a long while since he’s used that nickname. “I brought your favourite.”

 

Janet smiles wanly. “Just because you bought me some on our first date doesn’t make it my favourite.”

 

“Gah, let an old man dream.” Victor approaches, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He hands her a jello cup, and Janet digs in. Weirdly, it tastes about ten times better than average lime jello.

 

She looks down at it, confused. “Is there something in this?”

 

Victor shakes his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

She takes another bite, studying his face. “Victor…”

 

“Yes, Nettie?”

 

She bites her lip, then voices a suspicion she’s had since she arrived. “None of this is real, is it?” 

 

Victor shakes his head. “No, no it’s not. You always were a smart one. Smarter than you were ever given credit for.”

 

“Are you really my husband?” Now that she thinks about it, he almost doesn’t seem like Victor. Her recent memory before this place is foggy, but there’s just something about him…

 

“No. But I can assure you, I’m a friend.” But his mouth twitches, the way her husband always did when he was lying. 

 

“No, I don’t think you are.”

 

Not-Victor blanches. “Well, what- What makes you say that?”

 

She smiles genially. “I’m smarter than people give me credit for, remember?”

 

His eyes narrow. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

 

Janet’s brow creases. “Go? Go where?”

 

“...You’ll see.” He stands, offering her a hand, but Janet doesn’t take it. 

 

“That’s not an answer.”

 

He huffs a laugh. “I’m aware. Now, get up.”

 

Janet crosses her arms. “Not until you tell me where you’re taking me.”

 

He smiles in a secret kind of way. “Let’s just say we’re going somewhere where your skills will be put to use. You’ll be appreciated, Janet. Worthy.”

 

_ Appreciated?  _ Janet stands. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  
  
  



	3. Cross The Delta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jealousy, rescues, and close encounters of the third kind.

Gert gives Tandy a bad feeling. She isn’t exactly sure why that is, she just knows that it  _ is. _ Every time they make eye contact, she feels Gert’s gaze bore into her, and it creeps her out. It’s an analyzing, coercing stare, and it makes Tandy want to reveal all her secrets. Like the fucking Mona Lisa, or some shit. 

 

The worst part is, she’s pretty sure Gert doesn’t even mean to do it. She’s been staying with Ty at the church for two days, now, and still, Tandy feels uneasy around her. Though maybe that’s due to the story she’d told them, the one with cults and murder and off their rocker parental figures. It’s almost as crazy as her and Ty’s story, and that’s saying a  _ lot.  _

 

Unfortunately, she’s not allowed to say anything about it. Well, she could- has, actually- but it wouldn’t go well. Ty likes her too much to listen to a word Tandy says against her. It makes her skin feel itchy and her stomach churn, but there’s nothing to be done about it. She’s not sure if he Like likes her, but either way, it still makes her sick with jealousy that she’s  _ not supposed to have. _

 

God, listen to her. ‘Like like’. Who  _ is  _ she? Some childish little girl with a schoolyard crush? Some whiny little bitch baby? Stupid Ty and his stupid smile and stupid personality, making her feel a bunch of stupid feelings. 

 

“Hey, Dee-Dee,” Ty greets from somewhere behind her, and Tandy’s entire body melts. Stupid who? 

 

She turns around, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and wishing he could have picked a better time to show up unannounced. It’s Saturday morning, she was gonna watch cartoons and eat Froot Loops, and that’s exactly what she’s dressed for in her half a decade old (and definitely too small) flannel pyjamas. “Uhm, h-hey. You’re here early.”

 

He nods, pulling down his hood. “I am. Sorry for showing up with no notice, by the way.”

 

“It’s cool, I’m used to it.” It’s true, she is. Ty doesn’t have the common sense to call first- they’re just lucky he hasn’t popped in on her while she was in the middle of something embarrassing. “What’s up?”

 

“Oh, I was just wondering if you had any, uh, blankets laying around? I need a few extra. I’ll return them, I promise.”  _ Why, because they’re for Gert? Are you-  _ she stops herself from going down  _ that  _ line of thought. 

 

Tandy snorts. “And you couldn’t’ve called?”

 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

 

Her traitorous cheeks warm up. “Oh?”

 

“‘Course, Dee-Dee.” He shakes his head a little, grinning that damned smile of his, and for a moment, they just smile at each other. It’s weird- Tandy has probably smiled more after meeting Ty than she had since her father died. 

 

She looks away first, because she’s a big dumb coward. “So, um, the blankets?”

 

Ty’s shoulders drop a little. “Right. The blankets.”

 

~~~~~

 

That evening, Tandy invites herself along to dinner with Gert and Ty. She refuses to feel embarrassed at her supposed brashness, though her mother tut-tuts her for it- she  _ is  _ Ty’s friend, and she’s not going to stop behaving the way she usually would just because there’s someone new around. Even if that new person is super pretty, and funny, and- wait, is she  _ attracted  _ to Gert? Fuck. Fuck, that’s annoying. 

 

She shows up around 5:30, because that’s when Ty usually eats, but there’s not a plate or fork in sight when she arrives. Just Gert and Ty sitting close as can be, leaning into each other and giggling over some inside joke. They’ve known each other for two days, how do they have inside jokes?

 

Tandy clears her throat. “Hey, guys.”

 

Ty looks up at her and lights up like a Christmas tree.  _ Cute. _ “Tandy! Do you remember that time when you took me to see the swans over in Fier Park and-”

 

“You accidentally fell into the water, yeah, I do, why?”  _ Was he talking about me?  _

 

“Oh, I was just telling Gert the story.”  _ He was! _ “You staying for supper?”

 

She rolls her eyes, but there’s no malice to it. “‘Course I am. Pizza?”

 

He grins, wide. “You complete me.”

 

He’s saying it jokingly, but her heart still starts to pound at the words. “Yeah, yeah. You need money?”

 

“Nah, I found a twenty on the sidewalk the other day. Seeya.” And then he’s gone, popping out of existence.

 

Tandy shakes her head a little at her goofball of a best friend. “He’s so the worst.”

 

Gert raises an eyebrow at her. “Aren’t you, like, in love with him, though?”

 

Every muscle in her body immediately freezes up, leaving her a knockoff version of the Mother Mary statue not ten feet away from her. A thought comes to her mind of Ty being her Pygmalion, but she dismisses it for another time. “What gave you that impression?”

 

“Oh, come on, I’m not blind,” Gert says, “You two are totally into each other.”

 

Tandy sighs, then ambles over to join her on the pew. “He just...doesn’t see that way.”

 

Gert huffs a laugh, but it’s more sad than amused.  “I used to think that. Um, there was this guy, who I’d been, like, in love with since we were kids. But I- I never thought it would pan out. He was always more popular, more attractive, just...more, you know? So I never thought we’d get together, and I’d be stuck liking him ‘til the day I died. But one night, it kinda just...happened. And we...we were so happy.”

 

Oh, no, this is a tragic story, isn’t it? Jesus, who would break up with a girl like Gert? As she starts to sniffle, Tandy pats her on the shoulder awkwardly. “Hey, don’t, uh, don’t cry. It’s, um, it’s okay.”

 

Gert shakes her head. “It’s- it’s not, though. God, he’s such a- he’s such a jerk. And here I am, still- still wanting him, desperately.” She runs her hands down her face. “I feel like such a loser.”

 

Tandy runs a hand up and down her back. “You’re not a loser.”

 

Gert shakes her head, disagreeing. “I am, but whatever. Ty isn’t- Ty wouldn’t do what Chase did. He’s a good guy.”

Her eyebrows go up. “Was this ‘Chase’ of yours  _ not  _ a good guy?”

 

Gert’s eyes fall closed, and she suddenly looks about a thousand years old, face worn by time and pain. “That’s the thing...he is. I  _ know  _ he is. Which is why it hurts so much that he left, y’know? Like, am I not good enough for a good guy?”

 

“Of  _ course  _ you are…” Tandy has no idea how to do this. Advice is Ty’s thing, or Mina’s,  _ not  _ hers. 

 

Gert shakes her head a little, but it seems to be more to herself that Tandy. “You know what he said, the night he left? _ ‘You guys are so good, but there’s somewhere else I have to be right now’ _ . There was- we argued, but that’s the one thing that sticks in my head.  _ You guys are so good. _ What does that even  _ mean?  _ And- and how good can I be if he didn’t stay for me, didn’t  _ fight  _ for me- Christ, this is giving me a headache. Christ.”

 

She rubs at her temples, staring down at the floor like she wants to fight it. Tandy doesn’t doubt that she’s picturing the guy’s face. Her face is a melting pot of emotions, and Tandy so badly wants to know what she’s thinking, if only to satisfy her own curiosity. 

 

Against her better judgement, Tandy reaches out and touches her hand, hoping to see what she’s seeing. Instead, when the blinding light dims to something more manageable, she’s in...a bedroom. Oh, no. if she has to see people having sex right now she’ll puke, guaranteed. 

 

But wait, no. Thankfully, that’s not what’s happening here. 

 

There are two people sitting on the bed, mid-morning sunlight dappling their faces through the tall windows. One is Gert, wearing flannel pyjamas and leaning against the shoulder of the other person, a movie-star-handsome guy who Tandy can only assume is Chase. They’re wrapped up in each other in that lovey dovey way that Tandy thought was only for movies and TV; connected at every point with their hands tangled together. They’re speaking in soft tones, and it’s the first time doing this that Tandy has felt like she’s intruding.

 

“I’m still really sorry, y’know,” the guy, Chase, says softly. “You’re right, I was- I was a coward. I’m gonna be better, okay?”

 

Gert looks up at him, eyes full of emotion that, as an outsider, Tandy can’t place. “How, though? I don’t need empty words, Chase, you know that.”

 

Chase swallows, audible enough that even she can hear it. “I’m gonna make sure that you never, ever have to doubt how much I love you. I’m not leaving you, okay? Not again. Not ever.” 

 

Gert smiles, a ghost of a thing. “I like the sound of that.”

 

Chase leans in to kiss her, and the dream dissolves. Tandy blinks, and she’s back in the church. Gert has pulled her hand away, looking at her with hurt eyes. “What did you just  _ do?” _

 

**__________**

 

Tandy blinks at her, shocked. “You- you could see that?”

 

“I couldn’t see anything specific,” Gert says, voice shaky, “but I know how having someone root around my head feels, and I  _ don’t  _ like it.”

 

She rises to her feet, putting as much distance between them as she can. Her head feels weird, like Tandy reached in and took her brain out to examine it. She knew about her and Ty’s abilities- Ty had explained it all her first night when they traded stories. She also knew that Ty’s powers had limits, which is why he hadn’t just sent her back to L.A. already. But she never would’ve imagined either of them would use their abilities on  _ her. _ It makes her sick to her stomach.

 

Tandy stands, too, approaching her, but Gert holds out a hand. “Don’t. Just- that wasn’t- don’t.”

 

She clenches her fists, seeming conflicted. “I’m- I’m sorry. You looked sad, and I wanted to see what was wrong-”

 

“So you thought it was okay to  _ root around my head?” _

 

Tandy winces. “That’s not-”

 

“What the hell is going on here?” Ty’s voice asks as he pops back into the church, box of pizza in hand. 

 

Gert crosses her arms, feeling almost sick to her stomach. “Nothing. I’m gonna- I’m gonna go.”

 

They both stare at her in disbelief. Ty recovers first, saying, “What? Gert, it’s not safe-”

 

Gert looks to Tandy, giving her a death glare. “It’s not too safe here, either, so I’d rather just take my chances.”

 

Ty looks between the two of them, confused. He looks to Gert, angry, then Tandy, guilty, and it seems to dawn on him. “Tandy, you didn’t.”

 

“She looked fucking miserable, Ty, what was I supposed to do?”

 

“Not- you know what? Never mind.” He drags a hand down his face, tapping his foot. The action all of a sudden reminds her of Nico, and her heart pangs. What she wouldn’t give to be nagged at  by her just one more time. To Gert, he says, “You should really stay here. Seriously.”

 

Gert considers her options, then nods. “A-alright. I need some air, though. I’ll be back later.”

 

They both nod, and she stalks out of the church. The moment she does, an argument starts up between them, loud and angry. Jesus, they either need to fuck it out or go to couples’ counselling, seriously. Their spats are getting out of hand.

 

Gert takes a lap around the block, trying to get her emotions under control. First, she has a my-ex-never-cared-about-me breakdown , then, not moments later, Tandy digs around her head and gives her the worst headache of all time. When Ty told her about their abilities, Gert had believed it. She’s seen more absurd things. But he didn’t mention the horrible migraine that accompanied it. 

 

She stops near the entrance of a bodega, trying to catch her breath. She closes her eyes for a moment, sucking in air like she’s about to drown. 

 

“Gert?”

 

She turns around, hoping it’s not who she thinks, but, yep, there’s dear old Dad, grinning like he’s just won the lottery. 

 

Gert starts running the moment they lock eyes, but she’s just not fast enough. Even the adrenaline can’t make her go any faster, and he manages to knock her down only ten meters from the church, from safety. She hits the ground hard, the side of her head slamming into the pavement. Her left ear starts to ring as she cries out, wishing desperately there was someone here to help her. 

 

“I’m really sorry about this, Gertrude,” Dale says, plunging a needle into her arm, and then everything goes black.

 

**__________**

 

_ “If you keep looking _

_  
__To the center of my heart_

_  
__To the center of my heart_

_  
__How many licks, how many licks 'til you get to the center of my_

_  
__To the center of my heart_

_  
__To the center of my heart_

_  
__Oh, oh, oh_

_  
__If you keep looking_

_  
__Cross the delta-”_

 

“Oh my God, would you shut that off?” Nico asks, irritated. “It’s, like, melting my brain.”

 

From the front seat, Molly scoffs. “This is my pump up music!”

 

“Molls, we’re on our way to the house of a murderer to save our friends who are in  _ extreme danger.”  _  Halfway through the week of stakeouts, thanks to some careful reconnaissance, they’d realized that they’d been looking for their friends in the wrong place. It only took a day of snooping around to find out that their best bet was most likely the Stein household, which is where they’re headed right now. “You do not need pump up music. Turn it off.”

 

“To be fair,” Alex cuts in, surely about to spew some bullshit, “I think getting our adrenaline pumping could help.”

 

“I agree with this,” says Xavin, who, unfortunately, is an integral part of this plan.

 

Nico’s eyes narrow. “You guys aren’t gonna let me win, are you?”

 

All three of them shake their heads no, and Nico groans, falling back against the seat. 

 

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” Alex says, sounding uncannily like some sort of suburban dad. This comparison is anything but disproven by what he says next. “Hey, why don’t we play some car games? It’ll, uh, help keep our spirits up or some shit.”

 

Nico glares at him. “You can’t be serious.”

 

“I am! Okay, um…”

 

“Better idea,” Molly says, “let’s go back to arguing over who we think the mole in PRIDE is. I still think it’s Dale.”

 

“No way, it’s totally my dad,” Nico says, the words coming out before she can stop herself. They’ve had this argument, like, eight times since Old Lace returned, but it never stops being fun. She has no clue why- maybe it’s just the debate of it. 

 

“I still say it’s Janet.” Alex believes this because both his parents are in jail, and no longer options. “She seems nice.”

 

“A wolf in sheep’s clothing is still a wolf, Al.” Nico doesn’t like Janet. This is mostly because Chase doesn’t like Janet, but whatever.

 

“Pshaw,” Alex says, in a thoroughly Gert Yorkes tone of voice, “You sound like Chase.”

 

At the name of their absent friend, the car goes silent, save for the still-blaring music.  _ Good going, Alex.  _

 

She spends the rest of the drive trying to tune out the music and stressing over whether or not this plan will actually work. Fortunately, it seems she has less to worry about than she thought. 

 

Breaking in is easy. Molly is about to smash her fist through the security system, but Xavin solves the problem of alerting someone with the vicious dismantlement by morphing into Victor Stein and placing their hand on the sensor. This is extremely creepy, and both her and Molly make sure to inform them of this.

 

The door swings open, and they step inside of the empty house. They know for sure that it’s empty- Victor (or, Jonah possessing Victor) is at a meeting, and, according to a PRIDE employee Xavin asked when they were sent into the HQ to ask some questions, Janet is on vacation, which is odd. Maybe she took Chase with her, and that’s why they haven’t seen him?

 

They look around, Nico checking her watch every two minutes, nervous. The more they explore, the more suffocated she feels- and not just in a ‘this is dangerous’ way. The whole house is oppressive, and so massive that it’s almost daunting- she can’t imagine what it would have been like to grow up here. Even though she’s still angry at him, Nico can’t help but feel bad for Chase. What could it have been like to live in this...this  _ fortress  _ when you could barely tie your own shoes or write your own name? How lonely he must have been.

 

Eventually, they head downstairs to the lab, and, oh, yeah, this is definitely the right place, or at the very least, a start. There’s schematics for weapons and some nasty looking prototypes, not to mention their faces plastered all over the screens. But there’s something off about it.

 

“Anyone else feel...weird?” Molly says. “It’s like this isn’t...all of it.”

 

“I’m getting that, too,” Nico says, nodding. “Maybe there’s a secret room, or something?”

 

“I sense this, as well,” Xavin says, and Nico resists the urge to glare at them. “Might there be an oddly placed sensor to look for, or a- is the word,  _ keypad?” _

 

“Yeah, Xav,” Molly says, grinning, “Good idea!”

 

Though Nico loathes them having a good idea, she still joins in the search, scanning the room for any sign of a secret entrance. 

 

“Hey, guys,” Molly says, tugging at one of her braids. “What about this?”

 

She gestures to a sensor on the back wall, half hidden by the two monitors on either side of it. Xavin, still disguised as Victor, approaches it, pressing down their hand and spreading their fingers. 

 

At their touch, the back wall retracts slowly to reveal a separate room. Xavin stumbles back, and all four of them gawk at what they see. 

 

There are three capsules taking up the most space in the room, just like the one Victor was being help in before. One is empty, Chase is in the middle capsule, and the last is… “Oh my God, Karolina.”

 

**__________**

 

Molly looks around the room, hands shaking. This doesn’t make any sense. _This doesn’t make sense._ “Where’s my sister?”  
  
Xavin, standing next to her, looks around wildly. “I do not see her. Perhaps she is...hiding?”  
  
Nico shakes her head a little, distracted. “No, I don’t think she was ever here.”  
  
Molly gulps, eyeing the empty capsule. _This can’t be happening this can’t be happening this can’t be-_ “What about...what about that one?”  
  
Nico, eyes flickering to Karolina every few seconds, walks over to it, opening the door and examining the empty capsule. She leans down, plucking a hair from the floor. “I don’t think Gert has ever been blonde, do you?”  
  
Xavin takes the hair from Nico, who glares at them. They examine it themselves, then sniffs it. “Hm. I believe this person is related to your driver.”  
  
Molly squints at them, confused. “Driver? You mean Gert?”  
  
Xavin pauses, then shakes their head. “No. The other boy, the one your Gertrude dislikes. He spent many hours in your vehicle, and I analyzed his DNA. This person was related to him.”  
  
Nico holds up a hand. “Okay, we’ll go back to you studying our genes in a minute- are you saying this person was Janet Stein? Then where’s Gert?”  
  
Molly clenches her fists, trying to slow her breathing so she doesn’t start breaking down. “She’s not- she’s not here, is she?”  
  
Nico bites her lip, then shakes her head. “I don’t think she ever was.”  
  
Molly nods, leaning against Chase’s capsule for support. She looks up at his slack face, blinking tears out of her eyes- and then suddenly, she’s somewhere else.

 

The first thing she notices is that she’s outside, a summer breeze sending the impossibly green grass in any direction it likes. The sky above her is bluer than she’s ever seen, bluer than she’s ever thought possible. 

 

“Hello?” She calls, not really knowing if she’ll get an answer. “Is anyone-”

 

“The _ fuck?” _ A voice yells from behind her, and Molly whips around, startled. Chase is standing not ten feet from her, eyes wild and hair even wilder. “Oh my God, are you dead? Please don’t tell me you’re dead.”

 

Her brow furrows. “Uh, I’m not dead. Are you okay?”

 

“Okay?!?” He cackles, mad as a hatter. “As fine as I can be, for a dead guy. How about you?”

 

Molly blinks. “You think you’re dead?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, I got knocked out, and I woke up here, and it’s clearly not reality, so-”

 

“Because you’re sedated by PRIDE, not because you’re  _ dead.”  _ Molly closes the distance between them, leveling him with a cool look. “You’re not dead, okay?”

 

Chase’s expression turns from teetering madness to suddenly bursting with hope. Just from this one smile, he’s already starting to look back to normal. “I’m not?”

 

“Nope. Alive and kicking, dude. Well, for now, I guess. We’ve gotta get the hell out of dodge, and soon, or that’ll be up for debate.”

 

His brow furrows. “Wait, where are we right now?”

 

“Your house. Karolina got snatched same as you did, dude.”  _ And we thought Gert did, too- but apparently she’s in the wind.  _ “Or, well, you didn’t get snatched, but you know what I’m saying.”

 

Chase winces. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough, but- I’m sorry.”

 

Molly is surprised by the sincerity of his expression. “You are?”

 

“Of  _ course  _ I am, Molls.” He offers her a small, apologetic smile. “Leaving you guys was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

 

She bites her lip. “Then why do you keep  _ making  _ it, Chase? After Amy, and then this- are we not  _ enough  _ for you?”

 

Chase flinches, like the words physically pain him to hear. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, like a fish out of water. “N-no. It was never- it was never about that.”

 

“Then tell me what it’s about, Chase, because I don’t want to be friends with you if you’re gonna decide we’re below you every few months.”

 

That was harsh, but it needed to be said. Sometimes being mean is the only way to get things done, even if she’d much rather keep the world in line with kindness. Kindness is the baseline, harsh words are for when you’re fed up. And Molly is definitely fed up.

 

Chase’s eyes fall closed. “It was never about you guys not being enough for me. It was about  _ me  _ not being enough for  _ you.  _ I’m- I’m a spineless, good-for nothing asshole; and that’s not me trying to guilt trip you. It’s the truth. I’m not- I’m not good enough.”

 

Molly’s shoulders drop. “That’s what you think you are to us?”

 

He crosses his arms uncomfortably, looking away from her. “I mean, yeah. Even with- even with Gert, I thought she hated me half the time.”

 

_ Gert.  _ Christ, where  _ is  _ she? Molly needs to stay present for this conversation, she knows that, but the name still hurts to hear. “Gert never hated you.”

 

Chase scoffs. “Well, if she didn’t then, she most definitely does now.”

 

_ I wish I could tell you if you’re right or not. Too bad my sister is MIA at the moment.  _ “Y’know how you could fix it? If you came home.”

 

Chase mouths the last word, like it’s something from an unfamiliar language. “Would you guys even want me there? Like I said, I’m-”

 

“Family. You’re family. And family means that nobody ever gets left behind…” She leaves the quote open for him to finish, gesturing towards him. They’ve watched Lilo & Stitch together about nine times- there’s an ancient television back at the Hostel, and that movie was one of the three or four VHS tapes they found. It kind of became a thing.

 

Chase grins. “Or forgotten.”

 

And all of a sudden, with him at her side, Molly feels like maybe things are going to turn out okay.

 

**__________**

 

“Hey, Karrie,” a voice that could only belong to her girlfriend says, “Where are we?”  
  
Karolina whips around, grinning. “On a cliffside, silly. Where do you think?”  
  
Nico rolls her eyes lovingly at the too-simple answer, approaching her with arms held wide. Before Karolina can tell her it won’t work, she’s reaching out to hug her, her hands passing right through Karolina’s chest like a glitch. Nico looks down at her hands, confused. “What the…”  
  
Karolina smiles sadly. “You’re not- you’re not really here, Neeks. So you can’t touch me, and I can’t touch you. Sucks, right?”  
  
Nico bites her lip. “Ah. then how am I supposed to get you out of here?”  
  
“You’re here to get me out?” Nico nods, and for some reason, her stomach fills with dread. “Oh.”  
  
“‘Oh’? Do you not want to leave?”  
  
Karolina sighs, looking away from her. “It’s not- it’s not like that.”  
  
Her brows crease. “Then tell me what it’s like, Karrie.”  
  
“Just- it’s so calm here. Peaceful. Aside from the occasional interruption, I don’t have to worry about anything the way I do out in the real world. I can just...chill. I like it.” Sure, it’s achingly lonely, and she has to deal with her father, but...  
  
Nico reaches out to touch her, then drops her hand when she remembers that it won’t work. “Don’t you- don’t you get lonely out here, though? All by yourself?”  
  
Karolina pauses, feeling as though the words were plucked from her mind. Nico is like that, sometimes. After a moment, she nods. “Y-yeah…”  
  
“Well, if you leave with me, you won’t have to be anymore. I’ll keep you company.”  
  
Karolina laughs a little. “Is that a euphemism?”  
  
Nico winks. “Maybe.”  
  
Karolina bites her lip, then says, “Okay. Okay, let’s go.” **  
  
**

 

**__________**

 

When Chase’s eyes open, he’s in a capsule of some kind, and the whole world is a stark white. He blinks again, and realizes that no, actually, that’s just the LED lights. Easy mistake, right?

 

Feeling as though his consciousness is still settling into his body, Chase stumbles forward into the door of the capsule. Unexpectedly, it falls open, and Chase tumbles through. He’s two seconds from banging his head on the hard ground when a strong hand grabs him by the bicep, pulling him back up. 

 

“Thanks,” he tells Molly hoarsely as she helps him right himself. “Appreciate it.”

 

“No problemo.” She squeezes his arm, then lets go of him. “How are you feeling?”

 

Chase shakes his head a little, trying to rid himself of the fogginess in his brain. “Uh, better than two minutes ago, seeing as I thought I was dead.”

 

“You thought you were  _ dead?”  _ A voice asks, and he turns around to face Nico, who’s wearing her patented ‘you’re a dumbass, but a worrisome dumbass’ look that’s usually reserved just for him. “Why did you think you were dead?”

 

His eyes fall closed. “I was alone, like, completely alone, and the landscape was-“ he swallows drily. “It was...weird.”

 

Karolina, who’s currently hanging off of Nico like her life depends on it, nods in agreement. “Like a fold in the universe.”

 

When he speaks next, his tone is dark. “But worse.”

 

“Uh, okay,” Molly says, voice fake chipper. “Well, I guess we have to ask the group, I guess: is he coming home?”

 

_ Home.  _ Chase likes the sound of that. 

 

No one responds right away, so Chase clears his throat. “I’d like to, um, make my case, if that’s okay?” Everyone nods, and he starts, “I’m sorry, to all of you. What I did was- it was shitty. I was acting out of fear, and a, um, desperation for my Dad’s attention. I never...I never had the whole loving parent thing, y’know? Like, before all this happened, your parents...your parents loved you, took care of you, that kind of stuff... mine didn’t, and I’ve- I’ve wanted that my entire life. So when he offered it, I took it. I should’ve known better, and I’m sorry.”

 

The group’s expressions all turn different shades of surprised or empathetic, or both. Molly is the first to recover, saying, “Well, I vote yes- I mean, if we’re doing a vote.”

 

“We’re not,” Nico says, but her eyes aren’t on him. They’re on the empty capsule to the left of them, and she looks pained. “He’s coming with us.”

 

**__________**

 

Alex has been delegated to getaway driver, and he is none too happy about it. One, it meant that on the way here, he had to be the one to break the news to Molly that they can’t get McDonalds on their way to save their friends from certain death. Two, it means that he’s bored out of his fucking mind waiting for them to get back. 

 

That is, until he sees a cherry red motorcycle pull into the Stein’s driveway. Hidden in the alleyway, he watches the driver park, pulling off her helmet...and revealing Tina Minoru’s smirking face.

 

“Shit, shit, shit.” He whips out his phone, opening Nico’s contact and pressing call. Tina is walking up the front steps and through the door, now, swaggering like some kind of supermodel. His chest feels weird, a mix of fear, stress, and guilt stirring inside of him. One of those things is not like the others, but he doesn’t know where it’s coming from.“Come on, come on, come on…”

 

_ “Hello?” _

 

“Nico, get out of there, now, your Mom-”

 

On the other line, there’s a sound, like a door opening. Nico sighs, but it sounds like she’s talking to someone else when she says,  _ “Oh, great.  _ **_You’re_ ** _ here.” _

 

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. You Shine Too Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reunions, ruthlessness, and phone calls.

“Aw,” says her mother, “you’re not happy to see me?”  
  
Nico glares at her, adjusting her grip on her dazed girlfriend. How did her mother even know to show up here? Their house is on the other side of town, why is she here? “Don’t make me fight you. You know what happened last time.”  
  
Tina rolls her eyes, amused. “Oh, please. That was sheer luck.”  
  
“Oh, yeah?” Nico says, reluctantly handing Karolina off to Xavin. “Want a rematch?”  
  
Tina tilts her chin. “Sure. Why not? I can waste five minutes.”  
  
She cracks her knuckles, but Nico is already pulling out the staff, searching for a spell. Tina’s eyes widen, reaching for the mind-scrambler sitting on a nearby work-table. Before she can get to it, though, Nico shouts, **_“Cask of Amontillado!”_** ** _  
_** ** _  
_** Tina’s eyes go crossed, and a dunce cap appears atop her head as rust coloured bricks pop into existence and build themselves around her faster than you can say, _would you like to see my wine cellar?_  
  
There’s banging noises as she tries to get out, but Nico is pretty sure the spell will last a good long while. She turns to her friends, grinning widely. “Well? Let’s go!”

 

~~~~~

 

“Alex,” Nico says, voice harsh, “Speed  _ up. _ My grandmother drives faster than you, and she’s  _ dead.” _   
  


“I’m going as fast as I can!” Alex lies, his grip on the wheel white-knuckled. “This car is hard to keep control of!”

 

From the backseat, Chase frowns. “It’s a Rolls, dude, they’re like, known for being-”

 

“Well, I’m still having  _ issues!” _ Alex yells, and everyone startles. 

 

She’s about to ask him if he’s okay, because it seems like there’s a lot more going on than the PRIDE-employed police cars behind them, but just then, Karolina groans, and all her attention is diverted. 

 

Nico is sitting in her lap right now, which maybe wasn’t the best decision, seeing as Karolina’s face is turning greener and greener with each passing minute. But there was nowhere else to sit, especially with Chase fucking Bunyan in the backseat. 

 

She cups her girlfriend’s cheek in her palm, her other hand going to her forehead. “You’re burning up, Karrie.”

 

Karolina giggles, warbling,  _ “‘Cause I’m burnin’ up, burnin’ up for you babyyy!” _

 

“Oh my God, Karolina, stop it with the Jonas Brothers,” Molly says, voice strained as she tries to keep Chase awake. After his little speech back at the Stein house, he’d hit a rough patch, and now he seems just as sick as Karolina. “And, Alex-”

 

“Yeah, Alex, speed up-”

 

“Alex-”

 

Alex makes a loud, frustrated noise, then slams down on the gas pedal. They roar down the road so fast that they leave a dust cloud in their wake. This would be fine, if he let up after a minute, but he doesn’t.

 

“Al, slow down,” she says nervously. “This is a little reckless, dude.”

 

No response. If anything, he goes  _ faster. “Alex.” _

The engine revs as they speed even faster down the road, and in the back seat, Molly all but shrieks,  _ “You’re going to get us all killed!” _

It’s like a switch was flipped. Just like that, Alex starts slowing down, shaking his head like he’s got a headache. “Shit, sorry, what’s happening?”

 

Nico makes an affronted noise. “‘What’s happening?’ Alex, you’re _ driving.” _

 

“Oh. Right. I knew that, I swear I knew that.” He checks over his shoulder for the cops,  and Nico does the same. Nothing. “Well, at least we got away, right?”

 

Nico raises an eyebrow. She’s going to have to ask him about this little blackout later. “Don’t say that too quickly. We’re not out of the woods, yet.”

 

But she’s got a bad feeling that they have a long way to go before they even reach the underbrush.

 

**__________**

 

Four days after her failed escape in Louisiana, Dale starts letting her sit in the front seat again. Of course, she’s also handcuffed to the door handle, because he wants to feel ‘safe’ around her. It’s completely absurd, seeing as the  _ murderer _ out of the two of them is him, but when she pointed that out, all she got for her troubles was the cuffs tightened another notch. So, now, she keeps her mouth shut on the matter. 

 

Not a ton has changed, aside from that. Dale is still pretending to be a loving father, and Gert is still attempting to drive him insane via a variety of methods taught to her by Molly Hayes Hernandez, the most annoying little girl in the world. What she wouldn’t give to hear her sing  _ This Is The Song That Never Ends  _ one more time, though. Hell, what she wouldn’t give just to  _ see  _ her sister. As of right now, Gert doesn’t even know if she’s  _ alive.  _

 

Christ, she really should’ve phoned home while she was with Ty and Tandy. There’s a lot of things she should’ve done while with them- namely, not  _ leave.  _ They probably think she just left them, now. She wonders if they went to look for her, or if they just accepted her departure at face value. That’s probably what happened, too. It’s not like anyone has come chasing after her before.

Apart from the handcuffs, the only glaring difference is that they no longer have the trailer attached to the back of the car. Dale couldn’t find Old Lace, and Gert wasn’t telling him what she’d done with her- which is to say, unlocked the door and told her to run- so he sold the trailer for a few hundred bucks and they went on their way. He hasn’t stopped bitching about it since, though. It almost makes her regret the times she’s called out to her through their connection, but not enough to stop doing it. 

 

“I just don’t understand why you won’t tell me where she went, Gert,” he says, for the third time that day. “I wouldn’t hurt her!”

 

Gert rolls her eyes. “Right, obviously. It’s not like you’re super dangerous and violent, or anything.”

 

Dale grins. “So, you’ll tell me?”

 

“No!”

 

“Fine,” Dale says, “but at least take back that I’m violent.”

 

She looks at him, incredulous. “You stabbed me with a syringe full of sedative! I have a bruise the size of Madagascar on my arm!”

 

Dale scoffs. “It’s not  _ that  _ big.”

 

Gert glares at him, then rolls up her sleeve to display the black and purple bruise that takes up most of her inner forearm. “Are you sure?”

 

Dale glances over at it, making a sympathetic noise. “Aw, honey, do you want some salve? It could help with the pain.”

 

“Wow,” she says, surprised, “You really have no remorse over this, do you?”

 

He swallows, keeping his eyes on the road. “I did what had to be done.”

 

Gert’s nails dig into her thigh. “Is that what you told yourself when you killed all those kids?”

 

“That isn’t fair.”

 

If Gert didn’t have such a headache, she would roll her eyes so hard right now. “So, yes, then.”

 

“No, that’s not- you know what? Fine. Believe what you want to believe.” He reaches for the stereo dial, turning up the music. It’s shitty 70s prog rock, which is wholly unsurprising from Dale ‘I was in a band in college’ Yorkes.

 

It’s easy enough to tune out for the first half of the song, but when the guitar riffs start up, so does the pain in her left ear. Ever since she woke up in the car four days ago, it’s been acting like a faulty piece of machinery. Sometimes, she can’t hear anything at all, like the whole world on the left side of her head has gone silent. But other times, it’s  _ too  _ loud- like radio feedback, just ten times worse. She’s got something wrong with her inner ear, for sure, but by the time she realized, it was too late to do something about it. And how would she have fixed it, anyway? It’s not like Dale would take her to the hospital so long as she said please.

 

“Would you turn that down?” She asks hoarsely, discreetly rubbing at her ear. The distortion of sound is sharp and all encompassing, like getting stabbed in the eardrum with a very sharp knife. “It’s- it’s really loud.”

 

Dale frowns, but does as she asks. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” Gert lies. “I promise.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Subway, or Panda Express?” 

 

“I’m not hungry.”

 

“Sure you are,” Dale says. “Come on, you think I don’t know what my own daughter looks like when she’s hungry? You wound me.”

 

“Good.” Gert stomach rumbles, then, and Dale gives her a knowing look. She scoffs. “Fine. Panda Express.”

 

He grumbles about how long they always take, which was exactly her reason for choosing it. The longer he’s inside buying food, the longer Gert has to root around the car for means of escape. He’s been more careful, as of late, so these small stints where he leaves her alone are the only time she has to plan.

 

Dale parks, and the moment he walks through the doors, Gert twists around to look in the back, checking beneath seats and in pockets for anything she can find to get her the fuck out of here. The handcuffs aren’t so much of an issue- she had an obsession with Houdini as a kid, and she thinks she remembers enough to get herself out of them. But actually subduing Dale long enough to kick him to the curb is where she hits a snag.

 

That is, until her fingers graze a cold metal briefcase. She pulls it out, then rights herself in the seat to open it, desperately hoping it’s what she thinks it is. She flips up the clasps, and,  _ hell yes, _ the mind wipe serum. Three weeks ago, she would’ve considered this too much of a hard move. But three weeks ago, she didn’t have a bruise on her arm the same colour as squid ink, and she’d never been sedated. Three weeks ago, she wasn’t partially deaf in her left ear. Things have definitely changed since then. 

 

So Gert doesn’t feel much guilt screwing the vial into the injector and hiding it under her thigh, waiting to stab when the moment is right. The briefcase is back where she found it, empty, but otherwise seemingly undisturbed. 

 

Dale returns some time later, triumphantly holding up two bags of takeout. They get back on the road, digging in. Gert stays quiet, waiting and waiting for the perfect time to strike. 

 

It’s around 9PM when she finds it. For the past half hour, she’s been very, very carefully picking the lock on her handcuff, Dale too busy jamming to the music to notice in the darkness. But now, he’s telling her that he has to pull off on the side of the road to use the bathroom, and, wow, this really is a perfect opportunity. So perfect that it freaks her out a little, honestly, but not enough to chicken out. She’s got to be brave, if she wants to get home. No more running and hiding. 

 

“I’ll only be a minute, okay?” Dale says once he’s parked the car, unbuckling his seatbelt.

 

“Um, actually,” Gert says, heart pounding, “one sec, I think there’s something on your sleeve?”

 

Dale blinks, seeming surprised that she would care that much. Trusting as always, he sticks out his arm. Gert reaches towards him and starts rubbing at his sleeve, chatting, “I’m not really sure what it is, but it looks gross, like, jeesh, what even happened?”

 

While Dale’s eyes are completely focused on what she’s doing with that hand, her now free left hand reaches for the injector and, quick as she possibly can, stabs it into his thigh. 

 

Dale looks up at her then, the fear present in his face. “Gert, please tell me that’s not what i think it is. _ ” _

 

Gert tilts her head at him, feigning surprise. “But, Dad, didn’t you say you  _ wanted  _ to forget?”

 

A tear slips down his cheek, and then his entire face goes slack as he slumps against the wheel.  _ Be brave be brave be brave. _ Gert swallows down the bile that threatens to rise as she gets out of the car and makes her way to the driver’s side, dragging him out and shoving him into the backseat.  _ You have to be brave, or you’re not gonna survive this. _ Hands shaking, she gets back into the car, sitting behind the wheel and turning the key into the ignition.  _ Molly would want you to be brave. _ She pulls back onto the highway, holding back tears as she drives to the nearest gas station.  _ Old Lace would want you to be brave. _ She pulls up to it, tugging her hood up in case there are any security cameras. She props him up against the wall, hoping that to anyone else, he just looks drunk. 

 

Holding back tears, she drives away, telling herself that if she cries, she loses. She’s already a fucking loser, but if she cries right now, then that’ll really seal the deal.

 

So she flicks on the radio, pulls down her hood, and pretends that everything is perfectly normal. To other drivers on the road, maybe she’s a tired university student, heading back to her apartment after an evening class. Maybe to them, she’s just finished the night shift. Maybe she just got back from a date, even. 

 

Gert swallows, her shaking fingers going to the necklace at her throat, fiddling with the beads and trying to focus on how she felt when Chase gave it to her, saying he’d made it himself. 

 

She wishes none of this had went down the way it did. She wishes they could still be happy together. She wishes she was  _ normal. _

 

_ Normal people don’t mind wipe their fathers with no remorse, _ says the cruel voice in her head, and Gert starts breathing heavy.

 

To herself, she says, “You did what had to be done. You’re brave, you’re strong, you’re a good person.”

 

It’s only after the words are out of her mouth that she realizes how eerily similar they are to what Dale said earlier this afternoon. Maybe they’re more alike than she thought.

 

**__________**

 

“Hey, want to make soup with me?”

 

Molly turns at Leslie’s request, brows furrowed. They’re in the kitchen, and, sure, she was planning on making something, but… “Why soup?”

 

“Because Karolina and Chase can’t handle solids, yet, and I need a helping hand.” It’s a good idea, but Molly’s mind is just going,  _ That’s PRIDE soup. We can’t eat PRIDE soup _ on repeat. Screw Alex and his earworm diction. Screw Alex in general, actually. He’s the one who said Tina, along with all their other parents, 100% wouldn’t be around when they showed up, telling them that the only people they had to worry about were Victor and Janet. But somehow, he messed up. She’s a little pissed about it, but she doesn’t want to press him on it. His little Quicksilver stunt from earlier is still fresh on her mind, and it was kind of terrifying. 

 

“Alright, let’s go into soup mode, then,” it’s an incredibly obscure reference, but Leslie still laughs. At the noise, Old Lace, who’s curled up under the table, lifts her head. Molly gestures a little, telling her it’s fine, and she drops her head back on her paws.

 

“You’re a little young for Seinfeld.” Leslie turns, grabbing the pot from where Alex had left it on the drying rack.  _ Boys.  _ Would it kill him to put things away?

 

“Um, Dale was into it. Or, is. I don’t know.” She doesn’t like to think about the good times, when her parents would tuck her in and help her with homework and make her watch absolutely terrible T.V. with them. It hurts too much. Way easier to focus on the bad things.

 

Leslie reaches over and squeezes her hand. It’s a simple gesture, but Molly still feels a little overcome by it. Her eyes fall closed, and she flips her hand up, entangling their fingers.

 

Quietly, Leslie asks, “Do you miss him? Them?”

 

“Of- of course I miss them. I miss everybody. No one ever stays, and I’m always left- left by myself, and wondering what I could have done to, um, change it.” Oh, she does Not want to think about this right now. 

 

With her other hand, Leslie rubs up and down her back. “What happened wasn’t your fault, Molly. None of it was your fault.”

 

Molly nods, sniffling. “I-I know. It just feels like- it feels like someone’s got it out for me! I can’t ever catch a break.”

 

Leslie hums sympathetically, then says, “Things will get better, alright? This problem will have its place, and things will get better.”

 

Molly looks to her with wet eyes. “Promise?”

 

“Promise. Now, let’s make some soup.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey,” Molly says as she enters Chase’s room/the garage. He’s sat at the work table, tinkering, which he totally shouldn’t be doing. He  _ puked  _ the minute they got home, he shouldn’t even be  _ awake. _ “You want some soup?”

 

Chase looks up at her, and it strikes Molly that there’s something different about his face. She can’t place what it is, but she knows it’s there. “Uh, sure. What kind? Please say chicken noodle.”

 

Molly grins. “Chicken noodle.” 

 

Chase does a small fist pump, and Molly laughs softly, striding towards him to place the bowl of soup in front of him. He holds his face over the bowl to breath in the smell, and his glasses fog up-  _ oh! _ That’s what’s different about him, isn’t it?

 

“I never knew you wore glasses.” They’re dad glasses, rectangular wire frames that are incredibly easy to miss. “How long have you had them?”   
  


Chase swallows the spoonful of soup he’d just taken, a little startled. “Oh, uh, since freshman year. I’ve always worn contacts, though- even had them with me the night we left. Had these, too, thankfully. But, uh, I didn’t take them with me when you guys came for me this time, though. Obviously. Luckily, I didn’t have them in when, my dad, he, um- anyway. Soup. Thanks.”

 

Molly is caught between feeling bad for Chase and laughing at his rambling. She’s deciding between the two when she realizes something. “Wait, you just left them here when you left? The glasses, I mean.”

 

Chase nods. “Duh. I was always planning to come back.”

 

It seems like a half truth. He won’t look at her, and his shoulders are hunched- Molly has always been good at telling when someone is lying. She shouldn’t, but her lack of impulse control all but forces her to say, “Were you really?”

 

His eyes fall closed. “Do I have to answer that?”

 

“Well, now you do.”

 

He makes an odd sound, half snort, half strangled hum. “O-okay. Well, I- before, when we were all, y’know, here, I did miss our old lives, kinda. I missed being able to...hide. Cowardice is so easy, isolating yourself is so easy. All it takes is one moment and suddenly you’re all alone again. And that’s- it’s simple, then. No one to disappoint when you’re by yourself, no one but you.”

 

Molly blinks. “Christ, Chase.”

 

He laughs, but it’s miserable. “Sorry. Sorry, that just, um, it kinda just spilled out of me, I guess. I shouldn’t have- hey, weird question: where’s Gert?”

 

_ Oh, smooth subject change. And if you think you’re sad now, then you’re really in for a ringer.  _ “Um, well, the thing is…”

 

Chase immediately sits up, straight as a rod. “That doesn’t sound good.”

 

“That’s because it isn’t. She, um- when we went to rescue Karolina, we thought she’d be there, too. But she wasn’t.” Molly swallows, looking away. “You were.”

 

“So you don’t…” he trails off, shaking his head before starting again, voice raspy. “You don’t know where she is?”

 

“No. We don’t.”

They share this moment, this moment of silence, in companionship. Truly, there’s nothing to be said that can make this any better. Only one thing can, and that is finding her. But it is late, and he can barely walk a couple feet ahead without feeling nauseous, so these will have to be tomorrow’s plans and, although neither one says it, they both know it. For now, Chase holds out his hand and she meets him halfway. She places her head on his shoulder, and he rubs his hand up and down her arm in comfort. Tomorrow will have to do.

 

**__________**

 

**_“_** _When we were very young_ _  
__We were separated_ _  
__From a story in the center of our heart_ _  
___Never to know how it ends.”

 

“I like this song,” Karolina says softly. They’re lying in bed together, after what’s been the longest day in the history of long days. Her entire body aches, and she’s probably going to fall asleep soon. She would’ve thought it would be difficult, after weeks of being comatose, but here with Nico, a sugary indie song playing on the radio, she feels like she’s about to conk out.

 

_“And when we met again_ _  
__In a digital dream_ _  
__We would seem to be connected with our lifeline_ _  
___Heavy with wits of a gravity.”

 

“Yeah?” Nico asks softly. Her face is pressed into the crook of Karolina’s neck, and she feels her smile against her skin. “Well, I like you.”

 

Karolina shifts, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you ‘lamped’ me?”

 

Nico giggles, a rare sight if you’re anyone but her girlfriend. “Am I ever gonna live that down?”

 

Karolina shakes her head. “Nope.”

 

“Oh, well,” she says softly, pressing a kiss to Karolina’s collarbone. “Worth it.”

 

It’s quiet for a while, save for the music playing. The song is nice, but Karolina can’t pay attention to it, now, too busy trying to gather the courage to say the one thing she’s been ailing over since her capture. 

 

_“Easy for you to say_ _  
__Would we be lovers in another life?_ _  
__If all the stars align, and the way we love life_ _  
___It's nothing short of a miracle.”

 

“Hey, um…”  _ here goes nothing. _ “I- I feel the same way. I didn’t get to tell you before, but- yeah. I...love...you.”

 

“Y-you do?” Karolina nods. “Oh. Oh! Well, I love you too. Obviously. I don’t know why I- um. Yeah.” 

 

“You’re cute when you blush.”

 

“Sh-shut up, I don’t blush,” Nico says, blushing.

 

Karolina runs her knuckles along Nico’s cheekbone, and her face goes even redder. “Don’t you?”

 

“I said shut up!”

 

Karolina smirks. “Make me.”

 

Nico surges forward and kisses her, and it’s perfect. It’s always going to be perfect.

 

_“Hey Big Star, you shine too bright_ _  
__I'm in love with you, I'm your comet tonight_ _  
__Swept me away in your blinding sun_ _  
___We'll melt someday into each other…”

**__________**

 

There’s a person standing in the kitchen who Chase has never seen before, and he’s pretty sure he might be hallucinating. He’s been more than a little distraught since his return yesterday and the subsequent reveal that his (ex?) girlfriend could be dead in a ditch somewhere. He spent all night thinking about it, and hasn’t slept a wink, so it’s not unlikely that the person who’s eating mayo from the jar with a large spoon is a hallucination.

 

“Uh, hello,” Chase says, possibly to himself.

 

The person (?) turns, surprised. Through a mouthful of mayonnaise, they say, “Goo’ morfin’.”

 

“Um, not to be blunt, here, but I didn’t sleep at all so I have to ask- are you real? Because I’m not above hallucinations right now.”

 

They swallow, then say, “No, I’m pretty sure I’m real. I mean, I think so. My name is Xavin.”

 

“Ah.” Chase can tell he’s going to have to ask someone for clarification later. Is this a Karolina thing? Things like this- random, unearthly people hanging around- usually are. “Well, I’m Chase.”

 

He sticks his hand out, but Xavin just stares at it, looking suspicious. “Is this the same Chase that quote unquote ‘smashed Gert’s heart with a large, spiked hammer’?”

 

Chase blinks, caught off guard. “She- she said that?”

 

“That’s a yes, then.” Xavin reaches behind them and grabs the open carton of orange juice, and unceremoniously pours the entire bottle over his head. As Chase flinches and yells and reacts the way one usually does after getting orange juice poured onto their head, Xavin tosses the empty carton in the garbage can, walking out of the room without so much of a look back. “Seeya.”

 

Orange juice dripping down his face, Chase stutters out a shocked, “Uh, b-bye?”

 

~~~~~

 

“I can’t believe this is how I’m paying penance,” Chase whines as Nico drags him into the thrift store, “can’t I just clean the bathrooms, or something?”

 

“Nope.” Nico says, gesturing to Xavin and Molly, who trail behind them, to hurry up. They’re excitedly chatting with each other about, well, something, though Chase doesn’t really know what. Could be anything, with Xavin. The orange juice he’d spent twenty minutes in the shower trying to scrub off his skin this morning proves their unpredictability. 

 

“Come on, can’t I just, like-”

 

Nico turns on him with a sharp smile. “Please, please ask to dumpster dive for your new clothes, I will more than happily oblige.”

 

“Uhh, never mind. Being subject to your guys’ choice in thrift store outfits is definitely the better option, here.” At least he’ll have  _ clothes. _ Like an absolute dumbass, Chase packed three quarters of all the clothes he owned when he left for his dad. The last quarter has mysteriously disappeared, and though he suspects Molly might know where they’ve gone, she won’t tell him anything.

 

Not twenty minutes later, Chase is laden down with the ugliest clothes imaginable, all for him to try on. The pants are mostly normal, but the shirts and hoodies they’ve picked are...largely the opposite. 

 

They herd him to the changing area, and, not wanting to sift through what is sure to be Nico’s god-awful choices, he picks one of Molly’s choices first. It’s a gray t-shirt with a cowboy cat on it, hat and banjo and all, with,  _ LOVE THAT COUNTRY MEOWSIC!  _ written on it.

 

He exits the cramped changing room, arms wide to present the shirt to the girls and Xavin. “How’s this?”

 

Nico snorts. “Fantastic.”

 

He tries on a few more of Molly’s choices, all adorned with cats and teddy bears and bunnies. They’re cutesie and girly, but Chase isn’t all too mad about it. He knows Molly is expecting some sort of complaint, but really, he’s fine with it. It’s just clothes, right? And who doesn’t like teddy bears?

 

At Nico’s urging, he tries on her picks next. The first shirt is black, with a depiction of Zombie-Shakespeare on it, holding a skull. In flowery writing beneath it, it says,  _ Alas, poor Yorick. I ate his brains. _

He comes out of the changing room grinning. “I like this one.”

 

Nico blinks. “What? No! You were supposed to hate it!”

 

“I dunno. I like it. It seems like…” The end of this sentence is  _ something Gert would pick out,  _ because it’s true. This shirt is something Gert would wear for three days before getting sick of it. But he can’t get the words out. He can’t. If he does, he might start crying, and nobody wants to see that. Instead, he shakes himself a little, then says, “Never mind. I’m gonna, um, try on something else.”

 

He heads back into the change room, sliding down the wall until he reaches the floor and breathing heavily, in, out, in, out, in, out. Focusing on that helps, a little. Helps him forget that he might never see her again. Helps him forget that she might be dead in a ditch somewhere, and he’d have no idea. God, she might never get a funeral. Wouldn’t that be fucking sad? To die without having something to say,  _ I was here, I was alive, remember me, remember me, remember me?  _ To not even have a gravestone?

 

Death has always haunted him, but never so much as this. He’s thought about dying more times than he can care to count. How it’ll happen, when, where, why. It’s almost a pastime, at this point. But Gert dying is not something he ever thought he’d have to face, and now that it could very much so be the reality, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

 

There’s a knock on the change room door, and he lifts his head. Nico’s voice asks softly, “Hey, are you decent?”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

She pushes the door open, stepping inside and closing it behind her. She leans against it, seeming awkward. “Hey.”

 

“Hi. What’s up? Do we- do we have to go, or something?” He wipes at his face, surprised by the tears that had been streaming down it. He hadn’t even noticed. 

 

Nico shakes her head, biting her lip. “No. I just- I heard you crying, and I...wanted to see what was wrong.”

 

“Oh, it’s just- it’s nothing. I’m fine. I’m being stupid.” Nico raises an eyebrow, and he sighs, gesturing to the shirt. “It’s just...she’d like this. It’s the type of thing she’d pick out. And I just...I can’t stop thinking about her, Nico. What if- what if she’s dead? What if she’s dead, and, and, what if- what if it’s all my fault? I’m the one who- me leaving, it kickstarted all of this. I’m the reason all of this happened. _ Me.” _

 

“Okayyy, Narcissus, let’s slow down.” She ambles over, plopping down beside him. “One, it was not all your fault. It was partially your fault. There’s a difference. Capiche?” 

 

Chase swallows, then nods. “Capiche.”

 

“Good. Now, two: we don’t know that Gert is dead.” Chase winces. “If anything, it’s more likely that she’s alive than she is dead.” 

 

He swallows again. His throat is dry. “How do you mean?”

 

“Well,” she starts, “When Old Lace came back to us, at first we thought: well, someone at PRIDE must have let her go. There must be a mole. But then we went to get you guys, and Gert wasn’t there. She never was, I don’t think. So, the way I see it: what if Old Lace was with Gert, and Gert sent her away? Like she did when we first left, right- because it wasn’t safe?” 

 

He nods slowly. “So she- she could be alive?”

 

“Yeah,” Nico says. “And before you start worrying, again, think of it this way- alive and in danger is better than dead. At least there’s something left to save.”

 

Chase’s eyes fall closed. “But what if that something isn’t enough? What if that something is only half of what she used to be?”

 

“Then we’ll find a way to fix that, too. Restored to full health, like Alex would say.” She cracks him a small smile, and Chase should just take that. He should stop the conversation now, let it be done with, let himself stew in his worries alone.

 

But he can’t. “I’m pretty sure we’d have to find her first to do that, Nico.”

 

She rests her hand on his arm, giving him a long look. “And we can deal with that, too. We’ll come up with something, okay? Together.”

 

_ “Together,”  _ he says softly, barely a whisper. “Okay. Together.” 

 

**__________**

 

Alex wakes up that morning the way he usually does. Alone, with a pounding headache and a hollow feeling in his stomach. He’s also freezing, because Molly keeps stealing his blankets and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. He’s pretty sure she gives them to Leslie, and that, too, would be enough for him to keep his mouth shut. She’s  _ really  _ pregnant, like,  _ pop it out tomorrow _ pregnant. They’ve been setting up some nursery stuff in her bedroom, which does  _ not  _ make him think of Darius. It doesn’t. (It does.)

 

A lot of things make him think of Darius. Like, say, any time he feels even an ounce of guilt about anything, ever. It’s like a Pavlovian response, or some shit. He wants to say that it wasn’t his fault. But to absolve himself of culpability like that just...doesn’t seem right. Though it’s starting to feel like nothing does, not anymore.

 

Like, yesterday. What even  _ happened  _ during that car chase? He was there one moment, gone the next. Molly told him that he nearly crashed the Rolls, and Nico talked to him about it last night. But he just  _ doesn’t remember. _ It’s like it never even happened, but everyone else seemed certain that it had. When he told Nico this, she got this pinched, worried look on her face, then told him to get some rest, and that they’d figure it out in the morning. But it’s morning  _ now, _ and he still doesn’t remember  _ shit. _ It doesn’t help that Nico and Molly are still half-blaming him for Tina showing up. And it definitely doesn’t help that every time he said he didn’t know why she was there, his stomach started to hurt, the queasy nauseousness that usually comes with lying. But the problem is that, for all he knows, it’s  _ not  _ a lie. 

 

Alex shakes his head a little, then checks his phone, not really expecting much- but he’s wrong. There’s three missed calls and a voicemail, all from the same number. 

 

He sits up in bed, confused as he turns up the volume and presses play. 

 

_ “Hey, it’s _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ I’m in Tex _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ I think? I’m calling from a payphone. Um, I’m on my _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ home _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ should be home by _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ Tell Molly I’m okay, and I love _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ Tell Chase- God,  why _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ even saying that. If he’s there, I guess, tell him that I _ **_\- crrrrk!_ ** _ Anyway, bye. I miss you guys.”  _ The voicemail ends, but Alex presses play again, desperately trying to figure out if the voice belongs to who he thinks it does.

 

After the fourth replay, someone sticks their head through his door. Molly, with an annoyed expression, asks, “What  _ is  _ that? It’s too early for videos, dude.”

 

“It’s not-” he clears his throat, a bit overcome. “It’s not a video.”

 

Her brows crease. “Oh? What, then, if not that?”

 

Alex swallows, then says, voice hoarse. “I think it’s Gert.”

  
  



	5. To Live Where You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> car rides, children, and confrontations.

Nico, along with the rest of the gang, has been dragged to the common area by Alex and Molly, and she is  _ not _ enjoying it. They keep saying they have ‘big news’ and that they ‘need everyone in the room’ to ‘hear it’. Hear what, Nico isn’t sure. The only real thing she’s sure of right now is that she’d do just about anything to go back to sleep. Usually she’s an early riser, but since Karolina’s return, she’s been catching up on the sleep she’s so dearly missed, so getting woken up and then dragged out of bed is  _ not  _ cool. 

 

“Can you guys hurry up?” Nico whines, slumped against her girlfriend. “I wanna go back to sleep.”

 

Molly scoffs, much too awake for 9AM on a Saturday morning. At the sound, Old Lace, who’s curled up under the table, nudges her arm, but Molly bats her away with her hand. “What happened to all your ‘early bird gets the worm’ crap?”

 

“The early bird is dead. She’s been replaced by an evil bat who wants to  _ sleep.” _

 

In a worn out tone, Karolina says, “Babe, you’re not a real vampire, you know that, right?”

 

Nico sticks her tongue out at her. Karolina does the same in return, scrunching up her nose in that adorable way of hers that always makes Nico want to-

 

“Okay, okay, I’m here,” Chase says, stumbling into the kitchen with Alex and Xavin on his heels, “let’s get it rolling, what’s the big news?”

 

“I’d like to know that, too,” says Leslie. She’s seated beside Molly, who has taken it upon herself to style Leslie’s hair into a long braid down her back. With her hair pulled away from her face, the resemblance to Karolina is even clearer than usual. “We haven’t got all day, kids.”

 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Alex says, whipping his phone out of his pocket and placing it on the table in front of them. “I want you to tell me who this sounds like.”

 

He presses play, and Gert’s voice, broken and tired but still  _ her, _ starts,  _ “Hey, it’s _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ I’m in Tex _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ I think? I’m calling from a payphone. Um, I’m on my _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ home _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ should be home by _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ Tell Molly I’m okay, and I love _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ Tell Chase- God, why _ **_\- crrk!_ ** _ even saying that. If he’s there, I guess, tell him that I _ **_\- crrrrk!_ ** _ Anyway, bye. I miss you guys.”  _

 

Suddenly fully awake, Nico punches Chase on the shoulder. “See! I  _ told  _ you she was alright!”

 

Chase doesn’t respond, too busy staring into space like he’s gone catatonic. Nico nudges him. “Chase?”

He shakes his head a little, then looks up at her. His eyes are a bit wet. Voice hoarse, he asks, “She’s- she’s okay?”

 

“We hope so,” Molly says, in her patented Happy Sunshine Rainbows voice, “And Texas isn’t that far- I mean, yeah, it’s far, but if I know Gert- and trust me, I do- she’ll want to be driving as much as possible. She could even be home within three days!”

 

“Well, she’s not  _ that  _ dedicated,” says Karolina. “She’ll have to sleep sometime.”

 

“Oh, Gert doesn’t sleep much. I mean, she didn’t, before, so I’d assume it’s the same. Ever since Chase- uhhh. Uhhhhhhhhhhhh. Never mind, actually. Forget I said anything.” Molly very deliberately avoids the look Chase is trying to give her. Smart girl.

 

“Good choice.”

 

“No, not good choice,” says Chase, “I would-”

 

“Shut up,” Nico says. “Not the time, dude.”

 

Xavin looks up from the book they’d been reading. They’d listened attentively when the voicemail was played, but afterwards, they’ve seemed disinterested. Not now, though. “Do you need me to pour orange juice on him again? There’s some left in the carton.”

 

“Well-”

 

“I mean-”

 

“Guys, we are  _ not  _ pouring orange juice on Chase,” Alex says. “It would be a waste. Use the last of the milk instead, it’s almost gone bad, anyway.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Chase exclaims, “Are you-”

 

Leslie, who’d been ignored for most of this conversation once Molly had finished braiding her hair (oops), clears her throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think my water just broke.”

 

**__________**

 

Gert has been driving for so long that getting out of the car and stretching her legs feels like every muscle in her body defrosting at once, and not in a good way. She’s surprised that she had the strength to make that phone call last night, even. She barely had the mental capacity, seeing as she 1) called  _ Alex  _ over her sister on the faulty logic that he might actually be awake, and 2) mentioned Chase by _ name.  _ And said that she wanted to  _ talk to him. _ What was she even thinking? Why did she  _ say  _ that?

 

_ Maybe because you miss him, _ says that evil voice in her head.  _ Maybe because all you really want right now is for him to hold you in his arms and never let go.  _

 

“Shut up,” she mutters to herself, “there’s no way he came home.”

 

The other woman in the gas station aisle gives her a look, but Gert shoots her a glare that says,  _ if you even fucking look at me I will stomp you to death with my hooves _ . The woman wisely ducks her head and leaves her alone, obviously, because that glare has been working perfectly since 2006 and it’s not gonna stop now. Especially not when Gert hasn’t slept in what feels like eighty years and is aching with guilt over what she did to her father. She practically left him for dead on the roadside, with no memory and no identity, nothing to say  _ I’m here, I’m alive, people remember me. _ What a fate to condemn someone to. What a choice she’s made, all for her own benefit. When it comes down to it, morals don’t matter. If it’s her life over someone else’s, Gert is always going to self-prioritize. Chase was right- she’s selfish. Selfish and alone, just like she’s always been. No other way to be, for her, not at eight and not at 16 and three quarters. 

 

Gert shakes herself out of her thoughts, then finally decides on Frito pie for lunch. It’s crap in a bag, but, hey, with Fritos and gas station chili shook up together, where can you go wrong?

 

On her way up to the counter, Gert passes the cosmetic section. She hadn’t noticed walking in, but it only took a few minutes to realize that this place was a bit more well stocked than your average gas station. Drawn to the hair dye row, Gert examines the options, finally deciding on a rich purple tone that’s remarkably close to her original colour, prior to the fading and growing out and general mistreatment that came with going on the run. She’ll take an hour and do it herself when she gets home- and it  _ is  _ a when, not an if. 

 

Gert ambles up to the counter, hair dye and seagull-food ingredients in hand along with a tall can of peach Nestea, which is superior to any other flavour no matter what anyone else might say. She places everything on top of the counter/lottery ticket display, hoarsely asking the cashier, “How much?”

 

The cashier gives her a look. “18.75. You need some lozenges or somethin’? We’ve got lozenges.”

 

Gert can’t tell if this is a marketing ploy or genuine concern. Probably both. She clears her throat, then says, “No, thank you. I’m alright.”

 

“Well, funny accent you’ve got there, then,” she says, watching Gert count out the cash from her wallet with a keen eye. She probably picked up on how stuffed it is- Gert wouldn’t be surprised if Dale emptied his accounts before he left, with how much is here. “Where you from?”

 

“Oh, you know,” Gert replies. She doesn’t know how far news might travel, but she’s not risking it, just in case New Mexico fits into that radius. “Everywhere, really.”

 

“Where to, lately?” She hands the cashier the money, who gives it a quick look before stuffing it in the cash register. “Anywhere interestin’?”

“New Orleans was nice. Wish I coulda stayed longer, but it was good all the same.” She looks behind the cashier, and spots a row of burner phones on the wall, all in different colours. “How much are those?”

 

The cashier looks back, then says, “‘Bout 9 dollars. What colour you want?”

 

Gert pauses. Is a burner phone really necessary? She hasn’t gone through  _ all  _ of Dale’s belongings yet, he could have had a phone there without her knowing. But it’s better safe than sorry, and she’d like to be able to call her friends again. Maybe this time she’d be able to warn them about Leslie. 

 

She buys the phone, then takes her purchases to the car and sits down in the front seat, pouring the cup of chilli into the bag of Fritos and shaking liberally. She eats mindlessly, not tasting much of anything. It might as well be sand, for all she knows.

 

It’s been like this since the night she escaped. The second time, not the first. It’s like the guilt burrowed so deep into her that it infected her taste buds. Gert thinks that this might be karma- it’s the same with her fucked up ear. She went too far, and now she’s paying the price.

 

It’s too bad, really, that others don’t face the same fate. PRIDE is still out there, aren’t they? Leslie is, presumably, still living at the Hostel all nice and cushy, isn’t she? 

 

Gert remembers  _ vividly  _ when Dale told her that Leslie killed the Hernandezes. Right down to the time of day and the temperature outside. And he mentioned it off hand, too, like she should have known by now. Like it was  _ common fucking knowledge.  _

 

She swears that the first thing she’s doing when she gets home-  _ if _ she gets home- is telling Leslie to get the fuck out. And Gert is going to be the one to do it, too. She’s not going to just pass off the responsibility to someone else, like she’s always done. 

 

Gert is sick of being the weak one. Sick of being the one everyone else pities, the one delegated to driving the getaway car or keeping watch. She wants-  _ needs- _ to be stronger. Faster.  _ Better.  _ To be a real, useful member of the team instead of the girl everyone else feels like they have to look after, even her own sister. 

 

Gert needs to know how to  _ fight.  _ How to stand up and say,  _ you’re not getting past me.  _ And it’s going to start with Leslie Dean and her arsonistic inclinations. No more fires when Gert’s around. Not anymore.

 

**__________**

Why didn’t anyone tell Molly that labour is so  _ cool? _

 

Not physical labour, obviously- though, this probably counts. But for right now, she means the  _ popping-out-a-baby  _ kind of labour, and it  _ rocks.  _ Fuck Captain America or Iron Man,  _ Leslie _ is the real superhero.

 

Alex is pretty deserving of the title too, though. When Leslie told the group her water had broken, it’s like a switch flipped in his brain, or something. He immediately took charge of the situation, telling everyone what to do and helping Leslie through her contractions like some sort of teenage super-gynecologist. His voice even sounded different- lower, more adult. It’s fucking weird, but, hey, Leslie hasn’t had any complications yet as far as Chase and his X-Ray goggles can see, so who’s to say?

 

It’s good Chase thought of that- actually, it’s good that Chase even  _ woke up.  _ Upon full absorption of the situation and some grade A hyperventilation, boyo went dowwwnnn. Full-on fainted like some noblewoman in a romance novel. He woke up a minute later though after a well placed slap from Nico, who is also freaking out but not quite as much as he was. 

 

Her counterpart is trying very hard to help her mother give birth, and failing just about the same amount. Once he got sick of Karolina’s worried helicoptering, Alex told her to shut up and hold Leslie’s hand lest he make her leave the room. 

 

Molly has been very helpful, she thinks. She got the towels and the warm water and the nitrile gloves, and she’s been doing everything Alex and his mysterious gynecological knowledge has told her to. Xavin has, as well- if anyone’s been Most Helpful, it’s them. They haven’t even been told to shut up, yet- Molly has gotten yelled at at least four times for all the questions she’s asking. But it’s  _ interesting,  _ okay?

 

The next few hours pass in a blur of yelling and panic and everyone trying their best to keep Leslie calm-ish while internally screaming their heads off. 

 

Eventually, a new life comes into the world, crying its eyes out and flailing its arms wildly. The relief in the air is so thick she can feel it on her skin, and they all finally breathe properly for the first time since Leslie went into labour. 

 

Karolina takes the wriggling little miracle from Alex’s shaking hands and brings him- for he  _ is _ a he- to the basin they’d brought into the room at some point. As she very gingerly wipes away the blood from her new sibling’s face, Alex starts to mechanically cleans the mess of body fluids away from Leslie and deposits the now ruined towels into the garbage. The woman herself lies back onto the pile of pillows and blankets, panting as Nico hands her a cloth to dry her face with. It’s quiet, now, more quiet than Molly can ever remember it being with her family. Everyone is basking in the joy and relief of what’s happened, what they’ve pulled off.

 

Karolina hands the infant to Leslie, now swaddled in a soft green blanket. “So what are you naming him?”

 

Leslie looks down at her son, a serene smile on her face. “How about Elliot? That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

 

“Perfect name for a child of prophecy,” Alex mutters, too low for Leslie to hear, and Molly nudges him so he shuts up. What an odd thing to say- he must be dead tired. He looks up at her, eyes bleary and confused, then looks away again, shaking his head a little. His eyes are trained on Elliot and Leslie, completely focused. Weird.

 

“Elliot,” Karolina says, “I like it.”

 

“Me, too.” Chase is looking down at Elliot with an insurmountable amount of admiration in his eyes. What a sap. 

 

“A worthy name for a child of the stars,” Xavin says poetically, and Molly coos.

 

“Aw, that’s sweet. Isn’t that sweet, Al?” She nudges him, but Alex, who is now staring down at the blood on his hands in bewilderment and mild terror, doesn’t respond. “Alex?”

 

He looks up at her, fear in his eyes. “What the fuck just happened?”

 

**__________**

 

Karolina doesn’t remember the last time she held a baby. Heck, she doesn’t know if she  _ ever  _ has- neither of her parents had siblings, so no little cousins for Karolina Dean. They weren’t much for friends outside PRIDE, either. The only time Karolina’s been around kids when she herself wasn’t a kid was at church, and that does Not count. 

 

So, what she’s saying is, she might be holding a baby for the first time ever right now. She only sort of knows what she’s doing, and Chase told her to readjust about three times  _ (‘I’ve got cousins, and they’re all really little’) _ before Nico called him away. Something about Alex having a breakdown. Her mother is asleep, and, well, Elliot  _ is  _ her brother. So Karolina is holding a baby.

 

It’s going well, probably. She keeps worrying she’ll drop him, or that he’ll start crying, or something, but so far, it’s been good. He’s squirmy, but he seems to like it when she rocks him. Maybe she should try singing. That’s what you do with babies, right? Sing to them?

 

A little unsure, she starts to warble one of the only songs she knows by heart.  _ “Look at this stuff, isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Wouldn't you think I’m the girl, the girl who has everything?” _ Elliot reaches up, clumsily patting at her shoulder, and Karolina grins down at him. This is nice. Babies are so soft- she never knew that before.  _ “Look at this trove, treasures untold, how many wonders can one cavern hold? Looking around here, you'd think, sure, she’s got ev'rything. I’ve got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty, I’ve got whosits and whatsits galore. You want thing-a-mabobs? I’ve got twenty! But who cares? No big deal. I want more…” _

 

And then Elliot smiles.  _ Amazing. _ Babies are so amazing. Wait, does she want kids? 

 

When she was a little girl, she remembers obsessing over the idea of being a mother. She had a baby doll that she used to bring everywhere- its name was Gibby, because she was unoriginal as a kid and most of her reading material was the Book of Gibborim or variations of it. If you’re wondering, yes, iCarly  _ was  _ the bane of her existence once she got a bit older. 

 

The I Wanna Be A Mommy thing died around the same time Amy did. After the funeral, her mother just didn’t  _ get  _ it. She didn’t understand why Karolina was so upset, and basically told her,  _ she’s dead, she’s not coming back, you have to get over it if you want to be normal. _ Of course, Karolina wasn’t normal. She’d never be normal, and even so, grieving after a close friend dies is, guess what! Normal! But Mom didn’t get it, and didn’t want to. She got over it, even  _ knowing  _ how Amy died, and expected Karolina to do the same. So wanting to be a parent kind of died there. She’d never do to a child what her mother did to her. 

 

But Elliot is  _ so  _ cute. And Nico...well. Nico would be a  _ great  _ mom. Warm and comforting and loving and  _ perfect. _

 

“Babe?” Ah, speak of the devil. Or, in this case, hot goth girl. “How are we doing?”

 

_ We. _ how Karolina loves to be part of a  _ we.  _ “Good! Hey, do you want kids?”

 

Nico freezes in place, which is fair, because Karolina just blurted out what was possibly the most bizarre example of her lack of filter probably ever. Oops. “Uhhhh. Uhhhh.” 

 

“Sorry! Sorry. I, um- I blurted that. Sorry. Um.” Nico is still standing in the kitchen doorway in an almost perfect recreation of the Caveman Spongebob meme. “Forget I said anything?”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Nico says, sounding like she’s got a punctured lung. “Okay, yeah, let’s do that. Uh, anyway.”

 

“Anyway.”

 

“Right. Anyway.” She unfreezes, sort of, stepping towards Karolina cautiously. “So, um, Alex doesn’t remember today.”

 

_ Great subject change- _ wait. The fuck???  _ “What? _ What do you mean, he doesn’t remember?”

 

“I mean,” she says, tone serious and grim, “that Alex has no memory of anything past Leslie saying that her water had broken. Nothing. Like it’s all just...gone. Caput. Disappeared.” 

 

“But- but he was  _ there.”  _ Even took control of the situation without freaking out in the slightest, like he knew what to do and how to do it. It struck Karolina as a little weird, but she’d just assumed he was planning on med school, or something. “How could he not remember?”

 

Nico shrugs, expression worried. “I- I don’t know. I really don’t, Karrie, and I’m- I’m so worried, I just-”

 

“Hey, hey,” Karolina says, pulling Nico into a one armed hug. She has to shift Elliot a little, but it works out. Nico is small, anyway. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

 

Nico sniffles, pressing her face into her shoulder. For once, she’s not wearing makeup, so Karolina doesn’t have to worry about the fate of her shirt. There wasn’t much time to apply eyeliner and lipstick when your girlfriend’s mom is pushing out a baby in the same house- mansion. Whatever. Karolina is too tired to care all that much, right now. 

 

She rubs her hand up and down Nico’s back comfortingly. Her girlfriend makes a miserable little noise, then says, “I feel like everything is falling apart, and it’s all my fault.”

 

“Hey, no, it’s not your-”

 

“It is! It is. There’s just...so much happening all of the time forever. It’s the worst. I don’t- I don’t know how to do it all by myself.” 

 

Karolina presses a kiss to the side of her head. “Good thing you’ve got me, then.”

 

Nico twists her mouth up a little, like she wants to say something, but she seems to decide against it. She smiles up at her instead, warm and loving. “Yeah. I do.”

 

**__________**

 

When Alex’s phone rings, he doesn’t know who he’s expecting. To be honest, before he picks up, he’s half convinced it’ll be God, calling to tell him,  _ hey, we’re sending your brain through the cosmic car wash so you can feel real again, just a heads up.  _ This is, of course, insane, but let an amnesiac dream.

 

“Hello?”

 

_ “Hey, Al,” _ says what could only be Gert’s voice,  _ “how’s it goin’?” _

 

Though he’d been ready to drop only moments before, his veins are suddenly filled with adrenaline. “Oh my God, hi, are you safe, are you on your way home, where have you been-”

 

_ “Woah, dude, slow down,”  _ she replies, voice a little hoarse.  _ “I’m, um, I’m okay, for now, I guess. And I’m- I’m only a few hours from home, I think? I dunno. Might be longer than that. I just, um- I just almost got mugged, so. Kinda need a minute to recuperate.” _

 

“Wait,  _ what? _ What happened?” 

 

_ “I was walking out of the gas station, and this guy, he-” _ she gulps, audibly.  _ “It was bad. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t punched him.” _

 

“Are you- are you hurt?” He’s going to  _ kill  _ that guy. With his bare hands. With-  _ woah. _ Let’s tone it down, shall we?

 

_ “Uhm, I think I might’ve busted up my hand, but it’s whatever. I won’t die.”  _ Ugh, this again. Getting Gert to take care of herself is like pulling teeth.  _ “It’ll heal, probably.” _

 

Alex scoffs. “Right, sure- wait. Wait, you never answered my last question.”

 

_ “...True.” _

 

“Gert,” he starts, “and I say this as  _ nicely  _ as possible- where the  _ fuck  _ have you been?”

 

Gert sighs.  _ “Um, kind of everywhere, really. It- I didn’t choose to- I was taken, I didn’t leave, alright? That’s all you need to know. That’s all I’m- that’s all I’m willing to say, for now. Boundaries are important, and I have them, so that’s all I’m saying.” _

 

“Gert, I would never ask you to cross boundaries you weren’t comfortable with, but you know it’s not absurd to want to know where you’ve been, right? I’ve- we’ve been without you for so long, and with everything that’s happened...it’s been hard without you here, Gert. You’re- you’ve always been so good at keeping everyone together.” It’s true. Things are always easier when Gert’s around. He doesn’t know what it is, but she’s just got this way about her of making everybody feel okay again. She’s the glue keeping the rest of them together.

 

_ “Aww, sap,”  _ Gert teases, though he knows her well enough to think that she’s probably just deflecting.  _ “That’s sweet. And, um, what’s been hard? What’s happened?” _

 

Alex fills her in with more energy than he thought he could muster after a day like today. He might not remember most of it, but he’s still worn out from all the heroic things he’s apparently done in the past twelve hours. In telling the story, he leaves out the _ I’m an amnesiac _ bit, because it’s too confusing to explain right now. 

 

_ “Wait...Leslie’s had her baby?” _ Gert asks by the end of it. He can’t parse her tone, and he’s pretty sure it’s not even because of how tired he is.

 

“Um, yeah? Gert, how is that the thing you thought to ask about first? Don’t you want to know about Cha-”

 

_ “Don’t. I don’t even want to hear his name right now.”  _ Oh, wow, do you guys smell that bullshit? Alex smells it, and it stinks! Somebody should go clean that up!

 

“...Okay, sure, let’s go with that.” Alex is going to fill her in anyway, because he knows she wants him to, even if she doesn’t say it. “He’s fine, by the way. Was, like, really worked up about the whole  _ the most important person in the world to me is missing or possibly dead _ thing, but he’s been a little less anal since your call last night. Oh, also, he wears glasses now. Something about leaving his contacts back at the house? He said he didn’t care enough to go back for them though, even if Nico keeps calling him Four-Eyes.”

 

Gert giggles, a little.  _ “That’s, um- thanks, Alex.” _

 

“No problem, Gert. See you soon?”

 

_ “I hope so.” _

 

**__________**

 

Chase can’t sleep. He hasn’t slept since he got home, but it’s worse tonight. Like the universe is telling him to go fuck himself. 

 

Instead of lying in his hammock staring at the ceiling, Chase decides to actually use this time to be productive. He hasn’t had the time to work on anything today, obviously- Leslie going into labour kind of threw a wrench into his plans. Of course, bringing a new life into the world tops tinkering with his machinery, so- oh, that sounded bad, didn’t it? He’s got to stop accidentally insinuating beating it, it’s a horrible habit. Makes him sound like a...jerk off.

He snorts to himself, wishing someone was around to appreciate that joke. Unfortunately, the only other person in the room is a pencil sketch of Gert, pinned to the wall right at eye level. He drew it forever ago, on one of those rare lazy days before everything went to shit. 

 

They’d been curled up in bed together, her reading and him sketching out ideas. She got bored with her book after a while, and cuddled up against him to watch him draw. Chase still remembers how that felt. Warm and cozy and  _ safe, _ so safe. They chatted lazily, not about anything, really- just to be talking to each other. 

 

At one point, Gert asked him to draw her. She said it in a joking way, but he still agreed, telling her to sit still for him. Of course, the entire time he drew her, Gert mumble-ranted about ‘not telling women what to do’ and how she had ‘no obligation to do what he says’, but she was kind of just babbling, and they both knew it. He was fine with it, though- he’s always loved hearing her talk. 

 

Once he’d finished, he presented it to her with a sunny smile, asking if she liked it- only for Gert to burst into tears. He was confused, and asked if it was really that bad- but she was quick to correct him.  _ Happy tears, babe, _ she’d said, cupping his face in her hands,  _ happy tears. _

 

So now the drawing is pinned to his wall, right where her smiling face can torture him. Great. 

 

God, he misses having her around. Even if she hates him, that’s better than not seeing her ever again. Even if-

 

There’s a loud, mechanical noise behind him, and he whips around, spooked. The garage door is opening. Wait, the garage door is opening? The fuck? Is it malfunctioning again? It better not be malfunctioning again, last time that happened, a squirrel chewed up his wires, and it took days to get everything back in order.

 

But, nope, there’s a car. It’s ugly as hell, but there’s not much else visible. It’s too dark for him to see the driver’s face. 

 

Chase stands, uncertainty running through his veins as the car pulls in, parking behind the Rolls and shutting off. The driver’s side door opens, and a girl stumbles out, looking like she just got hit by a truck. Her purple hair is messy and faded, and as she sighs and leans against the car, clearly thinking she’s alone, Chase’s mind catches up to him.

 

“Oh my God, Gert?” 

 

Gert spooks, looking at him with wide eyes. “Uh, hey.”

 

“‘Uh, hey’? That’s all you’ve got to say?” He approaches her, planning on a hug but thinking better of it at the last second. “You’re- you’re  _ home.” _

 

“Yep. I am.” God, she looks tired. “So are you.”

 

“Well, yeah, Gert. You don’t seem all that surprised, though.” 

 

She swallows, looking away from him. “I was talking to Alex on the phone, earlier. He filled me in. Thought I’d at least be able to get through here without waking you up, though.”

 

Chase shrugs. “I couldn’t sleep.”

 

“Ah. Well, then. I should, um, go wake Molly up, I guess.” She moves past him, starting to make her way out the door and away from this conversation, but Chase holds up a hand.

 

“Wait, would you wait, please?”

 

Surprisingly, Gert actually stops. She turns around slowly, asking, “What is it?”

 

“Are you- are you okay?”

 

The question, however simple it may be, causes anger to present itself. “As if you even care.”

 

Ouch, that hurt. Has he ruined them that badly? “Gert, of  _ course  _ I care. How could I not care? You’re the most important person in the-”

 

“Don’t start with that bullshit. Don’t. It’s a lie, and I know- I know better than to believe it, now.” Well, that’s it, then. His heart is broken, officially. She’s standing there, arms crossed and a worn out kind of hatred in her eyes, and it’s just...broken. 

 

Chase winces. “It’s not a lie, Gert, I care about you so, so, much, okay?”

 

“You’ve sure got a funny way of showing it.” She looks away from him, letting out a shaky breath. “How can you say that, anyway? How can you leave me the way you did and then come home expecting to be forgiven after some...some pretty words and false declarations of concern?”

 

He shakes his head, taking a step towards her. “I wasn’t expecting forgiveness, Gert. I know I don’t deserve it, not yet. Actions louder than words, right?”

 

She doesn’t say anything, just twists her mouth up in that way of hers where she’s trying not to cry. He takes another step, cautious. “Can I say something?”

 

“...I guess.”

 

“Okay, so...you were right. I was-  _ am- _ a coward. But I wanna get better.  _ You guys _ are my family, I...I belong here. Not with people who don’t care about me,  _ never  _ cared about me. And I want you to know that it was never about you, me leaving,”  _ well, 3/4ths not about you. That last 25% was me being a big dumb coward too afraid to tell you how I felt.  _ “It was never about you.”

 

Her fists clench, and her bottom lip starts to quiver in anger. Oh, no, what has he said? “Chase, can’t you see that that’s the point? When you left, you were only thinking of yourself. Taking the easy road,  _ again.  _ Leaving me behind in the dust without one thought to how I might feel about you deciding that I just wasn’t  _ enough  _ for you anymore.”   
  


“Gert, that’s not-” he cuts himself off, too choked up to continue. Of  _ course  _ she’s enough. 

 

“Not what, Chase? And don’t you dare tell me it’s not fair. Fairness doesn’t matter when it’s the truth. What happened to ‘I always saw you’, huh? Was that just bullshit? Was all of it?” Her eyes are teary, now, and so are his, if he’s being honest. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed for me,  _ fought  _ for me?”

 

He blinks at her, stunned. “I...I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

 

Gert’s expression turns from anger to shock in about 0.2 seconds. “What?”

 

Chase takes one last step towards her, finally putting her in arms reach. He swallows, going over what he’s about to say in his mind rather than blurting it all out at once. “For a lot of our relationship, you, uh...you didn’t seem like you wanted me around all that much. And I- I know part of that was your anxiety, I know. And- and me leaving wasn’t your fault, that’s what I was trying to say, before; that it’s all very much so squarely on my shoulders. But I just...I didn’t think you would care all that much. I kinda thought you hated me. I guess it- I mean, you hate me  _ now, _ so…”

 

Gert’s face softens. “I don’t hate you, Chase. I never hated you, not ever.”

 

Chase sniffles. “Not even when I was being a dick after Amy? Or when I tried to make you feel better about your crippling anxiety with sports metaphors? Or how about-”

 

“Okay, okay, not helping your case here, tiger.” Get winces a little, like she didn’t mean to call him that. She used to do it all the time, when they were together- it was just ‘not lame’ enough for her to be okay with it. She was never one for cutesy. “And...no. Not even then. Not even now. I just...I never feel like I’m enough for you, Chase. And that’s not even just me- this is the  _ second  _ time you’ve left us. You can’t do that again. Next time-”

 

“There won’t  _ be  _ a next time, Gert. I promise. You- all of you, but especially you- are what’s important to me. I’m not leaving you again, not ever.” Cautiously, he reaches out, touching her arm. Surprisingly, she doesn’t push him away- if anything, she leans into his touch. 

 

Gert lets out a shaky breath, then closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his waist. She presses her face into his chest, and Chase holds her tight, feeling like the world might end if he lets go. They’re both crying, Gert harder than he. It’s more like sobbing, actually, like all her emotions are coming out through tears. He rocks her back and forth gently, rubbing his hand up and down her back. He knows that’s all she really needs right now- no more talking. Just a hug and some comfort. He’d probably go get her some hot chocolate if it didn’t mean he’d have to let go. 

 

Eventually, she runs out of tears, looking up at him with reddened eyes. “Hey, is it cool if I...can I sleep with you? I just- I’m so, so tired.”

 

“Of course, Gert. Of course.”

 

They both stumble over to the hammock, which is a slight ordeal to get into together, but they manage. Gert curls up against his chest, mumbling, “I’m still mad, though. Y’know that, right?”

 

“I know. I don’t deserve forgiveness yet. But I’m going to work towards it, I pro-”

 

She cuts him off with a snore, already conked out. Chase laughs a little, rubbing his hand up and down her back slowly. He’s missed this- missed  _ her- _ so damn much. 

 

~~~~~

 

When Chase wakes up the next morning, it’s to Gert struggling to get out of the hammock. She’s trying to hop down, but her legs are too short. _ Cute. _

 

He shifts, grinning up at her lazily. “Having trouble?”

 

Gert looks back at him, then looks away as quick as she can manage. “Um, I’m fine, thanks.”

 

She manages to get down, then scurries out of the room like someone’s lit a fire under her ass. He wakes up fully, then, all but jumping out of the hammock so he can race after her. He’s not letting her leave and pretend last night never happened.

 

Chase catches up to her just outside the kitchen, calling, “Hey, wait up!”

 

Gert stops in her tracks, then turns around, looking like she’s regretting it already. “Can’t we just forget last night ever happened?”

 

_ “No.” _ He closes the distance between them, gingerly putting his hand on her elbow. In a soft kind of voice, he says, “Listen, Gert, you said last night that I didn’t fight for you. I’m not going to make the same mistake again. I want to  _ be  _ with you, even if it’s- even if it’s just as friends. We’re good together, aren’t we?”   
  


Gert just stares at him, stunned. She gives him the most minuscule kind of nod, then opens her mouth to say something- only to be cut off by a commotion at the end of the hallway.

 

They both turn to Molly Hernandez, human wrecking ball, bounding towards them with a giant grin on her face. “You’re _ home!” _

  
  
  
  
  



	6. 'Til They Gotta Be Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzo, lessons, and...lots of yelling.

In Molly’s opinion, group hugs are probably in the top five for best things ever thought up by society. The six of them- sans Xavin, Leslie, and Elliot who are all still asleep- have been tangled up together for the past few minutes. Old Lace is even making a welcome attempt to join them. She only half succeeded, but she wedged herself in enough to start licking Gert’s face excitedly, which seemed to be enough for her. 

 

God, Molly can’t believe her sister is back. She was halfway to believing it would never happen, voicemail or no. But she’s here, she’s alive, and she’s  _ okay. _ Mostly. She’s a little battered and bruised, but there’s nothing that can’t be fixed with some rest, a first aid kit, and lots and lots of love- well, hopefully, anyways. 

 

“Woah, Molls, you’re crushing my ribs,” Gert says hoarsely, and,  _ oops _ , maybe a little bit too much love. She loosens her grip, mumbling an apology, but Gert just laughs into her ear and says, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. But can we, um, can we all back up, a bit? I kind of can’t breathe.”

 

The hug finally splits up, but they don’t go far. For a few beats, everyone just stares at her, too scared to ask the question they all clearly want to ask.

 

Well, Molly isn’t a pussy like they are. “‘Kay, hug over, you’re telling us where you’ve been, now.”

 

Gert bites her lip. “Can’t it wait? I’m- I’m back now. Can’t we talk about that instead?”

 

_ “No,”  _ Nico says, beating Molly to it, “I mean, yes, but- you’ve been gone for nearly a month. We thought you were  _ dead.  _ Where  _ were _ you?”

 

Gert looks away, swallowing audibly. “I got, um...taken, I guess. If you wanna put it that way. But I’m- I’m fine. I got away, s-so I’m...I’m fine.”

 

_ Taken?  _ Molly feels stuck in place, her mind going through every worst possible scenario of what could’ve happened to her sister. Everyone else seems in a similar headspace, which comforts Molly. At least she’s not alone in being horrified.

 

Karolina unfreezes first, closing the distance between herself and Gert to wrap her in a gentle hug. Gert turns stiff as a board, shoulders bunched up to her ears. After a moment, she sighs, leaning into Karolina. “I really am okay, guys. I promise.”

 

“Thinking you’re okay and actually  _ being  _ okay are two different things, Gertie,” Karolina says, pulling out the childhood nickname that only she could ever get away with. “You’ve gone through something awful. Let yourself feel your feelings.”

 

Gert snorts, pulling away. “Sure, Mr. Rogers, I’ll do that.”

 

“Hey, don’t knock Mr. Rogers, he’s a living legend,” Alex says, clearly doing the Jokes As A Coping Mechanism thing. 

 

Nico looks to him with a confused look on her face. “Alex, Mr. Rogers died in 2003.”

 

_ “What?” _

 

They start to bicker over it, quickly dragging the others into it, and Molly sees her sister’s shoulders drop. Gert sighs, like she’s unsurprised, then kneels down to hug Old Lace. 

 

Molly detaches from the group and makes her way over, crouching down next to her. “Hey.”

 

“Hi,” Gert croaks. “Missed you.”

 

“Missed you too, Gert. Do you- do you need anything?” It comes out halting, not because she doesn’t mean it, but because she’s not  _ used  _ to this. It’s only now occurring to her how much of a one way street their relationship can be- she’s pretty sure this is the first time  _ she’s  _ been the one comforting  _ Gert. _ “What can I do to help you?”

 

Gert shrugs, a little. “I told you, Molls, I’m fine. How have you been, though? I’m sure this past month has been, like, the worst for you.”   
  


Her brows crease. “Gert, you got _ kidnapped-” _

 

Gert holds out a hand, wincing. “I don’t want to talk about it. I really, really, don’t. Okay?”

 

“I...okay.” She twists her mouth up, unsure of what to say. Oh, wait, she knows what she wants to ask. “So...what were you and Chase talking about, earlier?”

 

Gert blanches, then averts her eyes, looking straight at Old Lace and nowhere else. When she speaks, her voice comes out choked. “You- you caught that, huh?”

 

“I’m observant.”

 

Gert rolls her eyes. “You’re a sneak.”

 

“That, too. Now, come on, what happened?”

 

“We just...talked. About stuff. And, y’know, things.”  _ Wow, way to be vague.  _ “We’re, um. I dunno.”

 

Molly’s eyes go wide as saucers. “Wait a minute, are you guys back together?”

 

She says it too loudly, and as Gert reaches out and clamps her hand over Molly’s mouth, Chase looks over. He now seems extremely, extremely interested in their conversation. Uh-oh.

 

“Way to go, Screaming Mimi-“

 

Molly wrenches away from her sister’s hand. “Doesn’t she go by Songbird, now? You’re the one who’s supposed to be all into the female superhero thing, didn’t you hear she switched sides?”

 

“Oh, shit, you’re right. Wait, are you right? Let’s ask Alex.” Gert waves him over, and the rest of the group follows suit. Oh, cool, so they’re  _ all  _ sitting on the dirty floor, now.

 

Gert explains what they’d been talking about, and Alex puts on his thinking face. After a moment, he says, “No, yeah, Molly is right. Songbird did shit with Hawkeye, and she’s got the supersonic fuckery, right?”

 

“Don’t cuss,” Karolina says, almost automatically. “Not around Molly.”

 

“Um, excuse  _ you,  _ I’m not a baby. I can say swears.” She tilts her chin at Karolina, hoping to get a nod in agreement. She does not get one. 

 

Karolina shakes her head a little. “You’re too-“

 

Gert cuts her off by bursting into giggles. “Sorry, sorry,” she says, laughter sneaking out between the words, “It’s not even that that was that funny, I just- I really missed you guys. Missed this, I guess.”

Molly reaches over, grabbing her sister’s hand and squeezing. “We missed you, too, Gert.”

 

“Wasn’t the same here without you,” Alex cuts in. “Felt like there was something really important missing.”

Nico nods in agreement. “Yeah, we were kind of going crazy without you.”

 

Gert smiles a little, surprised, then ducks her head in that way of hers when she’s trying not to cry and doesn’t want anyone to know. “I...I didn’t know you guys would miss me that much.”

 

Chase scoffs, almost offended by this. “Gert, of  _ course  _ we missed you. You’re, like, fundamental. To the group, I mean.”

 

Gert blushes, her entire face turning tomato coloured.  _ “Fundamental.  _ What an SAT word.”

 

Chase shrugs his shoulders. “Learned from the best.”

 

They stare at each other for a long moment, until Alex clears his throat and says, “Okayyy, uh, question, actually: were you the one who let Old Lace go?”

 

Gert startles, looking down at the deinonychus, whose head is now resting in her lap. “Oh. Yeah. I- I had to. I sent her away when I escaped...the first time. Oh, shit, actually- wait, never mind. I don’t remember his number.”

 

Chase starts, which Molly has to make herself not laugh at. “Who’s number?” 

 

Gert smiles wanly. “Just this guy I met in New Orleans. His name was Ty? But, um, I guess it doesn’t really matter now, maybe. I was only around him for a night or two before I got, um, caught again…” She looks down, running her fingers along the ridges of Old Lace’s face. “But, anyway. He was nice. He was- he was like us, sort of. Well, not just sort of.”

 

Alex’s brows crease. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Gert shrugs. “I’ll explain later, okay? I just- it’s kind of hard for me to talk about it, I guess. But- but I’m fine. I swear, I’m fine.”

 

Molly rolls her eyes, uncharacteristically annoyed with this. She’s just escaped her kidnapper, and she’s  _ fine? _ No way. “Well, that’s bull.”

 

“Yep.”  _ At least she admits it.  _ Gert sighs, fidgeting uncomfortably. “Just...give me some time, okay? That’s all I need. A little time, and then we can- then I’ll be able to talk about it.”

 

Molly nods, feeling uneasy. “Sure.”

 

But knowing their lives, time might be the one thing they don’t have.

 

**__________**

 

Gert has never been one for exercise. The outdoors, in general, has always been something she’s steered clear from- why go outside when the coolest adventures were in the pages of one of her novels? Why go running or soccer-ing (? that’s what it’s called, right?) when books were so much more fun?

 

But that’s got to change, now. She said she wanted to get stronger, and she’s sticking to that. And the easiest (and only, since they’re equipment-less) way to do that is running. Well, ‘easiest’ is stretching it. Her entire body aches, and she can already feel the stitch coming on.

 

Gert wishes she hadn’t gotten up so early for this. Sure, she wasn’t sleeping anyway, and it’s nice to see the sunrise, but it’s  _ cold. _ And she’s  _ tired. _ She wants to go  _ home,  _ like, right now.

 

From the woods on the other side of the sidewalk, Old Lace makes a noise in disagreement. Bastard. Too bad she’s right. Gert needs to do this. If she wants to be worth anything at all to her friends, to this- this  _ war, _ apparently, because that’s a thing, now- she needs to be able to stand up and fight beside them. She can’t be the one everyone feels like they have to watch over, not anymore. She’s tired of being the liability. 

 

The song on her MP3 player fades out, changing to...oh, shit, is this Lizzo? She doesn’t remember putting it on here, but, hey, her memory hasn’t been great, lately. She remembers Dale giving her the MP3 player, though. He said he felt bad about what happened in New Orleans, which was bullshit, but, hey, he let her buy a whole barrage of songs, so she wasn’t going to complain. Of course, most of the music she bought went straight into a playlist labelled [**_Gert Said FUCK Chase,_**](https://open.spotify.com/user/blanketlesbian/playlist/2yJerpqtnnqs44BchDoWMH?si=zZeOTvnqRcCtMfeZhlmJZQ) which is possibly why she doesn’t remember adding this song. Anger tends to fog the mind.

 

_ Why are men great ‘til they gotta be great? _

_I just took a DNA test, turns out I'm 100% that bitch_ _  
__Even when I'm crying crazy_ _  
__Yeah, I got boy problems, that's the human in me_ _  
___Bling bling, then I solve 'em, that's the goddess in me

 

Gert smiles a little, picking up the pace. The song fills her with energy she thought she’d lost- screw a fully functioning brain, Lizzo provides all the serotonin she needs. And, God, does she need it. Coming home was supposed to make things better, but everything just keeps getting worse. First, Leslie only just having her baby only a few days ago, meaning that Gert couldn’t possibly in good conscience send her away. Two, Chase, the ever-present rain cloud hanging over her head like she’s fucking Eeyore. Why can’t he just leave her alone? But, no, everywhere she turns, there he is. And it’s not even on purpose, most of the time- but there’s only so many rooms in the Hostel. Maybe going for a run is good, if it means she doesn’t have to see his stupidly handsome face all the time. Every time she makes eye contact with him, all she can think about is him walking out the door to that better life of his, with the comfy bed and hot meals and absence of Gert.  _ Fuck  _ him. She knows he’s sorry, and she knows it was a more complicated situation than she knew, but she’s still so  _ mad. _

 

 _You tried to break my heart?_ _  
__Oh, that breaks my heart_ _  
__That you thought you ever had it_ _  
__No, you ain't from the start_ _  
__Hey, I'm glad you're back with your bitch_ _  
__I mean who would wanna hide this?_ _  
__I will never, ever, ever, ever,_ ** _ever_** _be your side chick_ __  


Gert slows to a stop, catching her breath. She leans down to tie her shoes, looking around as she knots the laces on her thrift shop Nikes and finishes off with a bow. There’s not much in this area, save for a strip mall and...batting cages? She thought those only existed in 90s movies about father-son bonding. She knows this, because when they were dating, Chase made her watch, like, every single one that he could get his hands on. Gert would suffer through it, for him, because she liked to see the smile on his face. Her heart aches to think that it was all for naught. She could’ve watched a thousand shitty movies, sat through hours of white straight guys try their best at acting, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Chase would’ve still left her anyways. 

 

 _I'ma hit you back in a minute_ _  
__I don't play tag, bitch, I been it_ _  
__We don't fuck with lies, we don't do goodbyes_ _  
__We just keep it pushing like aye yi yi_ _  
__Why men great 'til they gotta be great?_ _  
__Don't text me, tell it straight to my face_ _  
__Best friend sat me down in the salon chair_ _  
___Shampoo press, get you out of my hair

 _Fresh photos with the bomb lighting_ _  
__New man on the Minnesota Vikings_ _  
__Truth hurts, needed something more exciting_ _  
___Bom bom bi bom bi dum bum bay...

 

It sucks, because, deep down, she wants to forgive him. She wants to go back to the way things were, when all of this wasn’t so complicated and she felt safest in his arms. But everything isn’t okay, yet, and, honestly? It’s not her job to make it so. 

 

She stands, jogging over to investigate the batting cages. Pushing the door open, Gert sees that it’s mostly empty, save for a bored looking employee and a few dust bunnies.

 

With more confidence than she feels, Gert slaps the five dollar fee onto the counter and grabs a bat. She’s going to suck at this, probably, but hey, at least it’ll keep her away from home a while longer. 

 

Gert ends up missing the first six softballs sent in her direction by the machine, but she hits the seventh with a frankly perfect swing that she’s enormously proud of. Once she’s gets a rhythm going, she starts to suck less and less, until the number of balls she misses per minute is down to only two. Her self esteem, on the other hand, is through the fucking roof. This is  _ so  _ fun. And it’s exercise! This counts as exercise! 

 

For the next few days, she goes through the same routine. Lays awake all night, gets out of bed at six AM, jogs to the batting cages, then lets her anger out through swinging at baseballs for an hour or two. Every time she hits one, she pictures the face of someone she despises. Chase, Dale, Leslie, the president. Sure, one of these is not like the others, seeing as he’s a sixteen year old boy and not a child murderer, but, hey. If it helps, it helps, right?

 

It’s one such morning when she rolls into the kitchen, absolutely starved. Who knew exercise could make you so hungry?

 

Distracted and ravenous, Gert raids the cupboards, pulling out the loaf of bread and the peanut butter. She doesn’t even toast it, just spreads the peanut butter on the bread and starts munching. Though, that might be more to do with her distrust of Nico’s magic toaster, a result of her quest to provide kitchen appliances through her staff. Gert thinks it’s kind of pushing the limits of the staff’s natural elements parameters, but according to Nico,  _ everything comes from the earth, if you go back far enough. _

 

There’s a noise at the other room, but Gert doesn’t turn around, preoccupied by spreading the peanut butter into all the corners to get as much onto the bread as possible. It’s the crunchy kind, so she plans to eat as much of it as possible before Molly gets her grubby little hands on it. 

 

Another noise. Gert still doesn’t turn around, convinced that it’s just Old Lace, or something. Any moment now, she’ll feel the deinonychus’ wet nose against her hand, looking for some peanut butter to lick off of her fingers. She’s got an obsession wi-

 

“Hey, I get that you’re ignoring me, but-” Gert jumps three feet in the air, then whips around, wide-eyed and heart pumping. Chase is standing not five feet from her, Elliot in his arms. They both look startled. “Uh, you okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, heartbeat slowing down, “you just- you scared me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

 

His brows crease. “I said your name, like, three times.”

 

_ Maybe that’s because I’m practically deaf in one ear, you piece of- _ nope, can’t say that one out loud! Definitely not! If she does, he’ll know she’s quote unquote ‘injured’, and then everybody else will know because Chase is bad with keeping other people’s secrets, and then all of her friends will be right back on the Gert Needs To Be Protected train. So, instead, she says, “Well, I didn’t hear you. Sorry. Did you, uh, did you need something?”

 

Chase frowns, but, fortunately, lets her change the subject. “Um, I was just saying good morning, but, if you wouldn’t mind, would you hold Elliot while I get breakfast? It’s my turn to keep an eye on him while Leslie does...whatever she does in the mornings, we’ve been helping out, y’know, and there’s a schedule, sort of? I mean, not really, but- anyway, I’m rambling. Yes? No?”

 

Through this entire impromptu speech, Gert’s eyes have been getting wider and wider at the prospect of having to be in close proximity to an infant. It’s not that she doesn’t like children- well, actually, yes it is. They’re messy, and clumsy, and they poop and vomit everywhere. But it’s also that they’re so small. And fragile. And- oh, no. Chase is handing her the baby, oh, no.

 

She takes it-  _ him, _ she takes  _ him- _ from Chase mostly unwillingly, struggling awkwardly to keep him a position where she’s not in danger of dropping him. Elliot squirms, because babies squirm and wiggle like little dumb snakes. Well, good-smelling dumb snakes. He’s so soft, too, you can’t forget soft. And once she adjusts him properly, he gets all cuddly, snuggling up against her shoulder and giving her a toothless grin. 

 

Oh, no, he’s adorable. Oh, no, he’s beautiful. Gert wants to keep him here forever, wants to hold onto him forever, he’s so sweet and amazing and gorgeous and perfect. 

 

Gert bops him up and down a little, and he laughs. She gets, now, why the myth of fairies being born every time a baby laughs exists. Also, she’s pretty sure that it’s not actually a myth. 

 

She meets Chase’s eyes, and is suddenly thrown into an alternate reality ten years in the future, where this is their kid, and they got married, and he never left her and everything is perfect- but that’s not their life. That’s not their life, and it’ll never be their life, even if this was ten years in the future. Chase would never want to marry her, anyway. 

 

She meets his eyes again, and he’s blushing. And not just blushing, like,  _ really _ blushing. Beet red, tomato juice blushing. “You okay?”

 

“No, yeah, I’m- I’m good.” He clears his throat, looking away. “Your hair looks nice, by the way.”

 

Gert blushes just a little as she reaches up and tucks a piece of newly dyed hair behind her ear. She’d taken an hour the night before to redye it, and though she thought it looked really good- all silky and richly coloured, just the way it used to be- she didn’t think anyone else would notice. Although, Chase always had made a habit of noticing the little things. “Um, thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome.” He meets her eyes again, and, unwillingly, her heart starts to beat a little faster. Seeming awkward, Chase points to the baby and says, “So, Elliot, um, he’s seemed pretty healthy, for a baby born in a dilapidated mansion. It’s lucky that you had all that mysterious cash lying around, it’s been good for baby stuff.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m no capitalist,” she says, “share the wealth, right?”

 

Chase nods, then asks, “What are you, then, if not a capitalist? Was it...socialist?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. I just think that it’s crazy that there are people with six mansions and three sports cars who get tax break after tax break while there are those who are forced to live on the streets, y’know?”

 

“Yes, absolutely,” he says, more readily than she would have expected. “Death to all old white men lording their power over others.” 

 

She blinks. “Jesus, Chase, want me to get the guillotine?”

 

“Sure.” He puts the tub of butter back in the fridge and takes a bite of his now toasted bagel.  _ He  _ has no qualms about the magic toaster. “Anyway, yeah, he’s been doing pretty great.”

 

Gert nods, then, not thinking about it, says, “Too bad that he’s stuck with Leslie, though. Poor kid.”

 

His eyebrows go up. “Wasn’t it you that said you felt bad for her? That she was forced to do all those awful things through manipulation?”

 

“Well, that was before I knew about-” she clamps her mouth shut.  _ Not the time, not the time, not the time. Wait until you can actually make her leave without putting the kid in danger. _ She looks down at Elliot’s face, and is suddenly filled with an indescribable kind of sadness. No child should have to join the My Parents Are Serial Killers club, and yet, here he is. “Never mind.”

 

His brows creep higher and higher up his forehead. “Uh, no. I’d like an explanation, please.”

 

She tilts her head at him. “Bold of you to assume I owe you anything, at all.”

 

Chase winces. “I didn’t say you owe me anything, Gert. just- never mind. Keep your secrets.”

 

“I will.” 

 

“Well, good!”   
  


“It is, thanks!” She stomps out of the room, angry, then wheels back when she realises she’s still holding Elliot. She hands the baby to Chase, then stomps back out, feeling both vindicated and foolish.

 

Gert has been playing offense her whole life, maybe. She’s just never been very good at it.  _ It is, thanks?  _ God, she sounds twelve. She likes to say she’s good at comebacks, but when she’s truly riled up, she’s miserable at it. And Chase has always been so good at riling her up. 

 

~~~~~

 

Why must sleep evade her like this? It’s unfair, really. Gert has barely slept since she got home, and she’s been dealing with it well enough, but tonight, it’s...getting to her. She’s sick of staring up at the ceiling and mourning the good old days when she got a full night’s rest. Or even just, like, rest. 

 

She could go sleep with Molly, maybe, but she doesn’t want to bother her. And everyone else is out of the question- it would be too...weird. 

 

When they were kids, sleepovers were almost a weekly occurrence. They’d all bunk up in the living room of whichever house they’d decided on with enough blankets and pillows to suffocate the average person. They’d watch movies, play games, talk all night, and it was absolutely the best. Amy was the ringleader, always- leading the conversation, whether it was about Warrior Cats or global warming, and choosing the games and movies to everyone else’s chagrin. It irked her, back then- Amy, the queen bee, Amy, in charge of everything, Amy, the perfect one. They were never as close as they should have been- Gert regrets that now. She regrets the jealousy, the misplaced dislike that came from having a crush she didn’t know how to deal with. Amy was perfect. And now, she’s dead. 

 

Gert gets out of bed, sick of this line of thought. Thinking about Amy does nothing but make her sad. She wanders for a while, feeling like her mind is floating above her body. This late in the night, nothing feels real. You just go where your feet take you. 

 

Eventually, she stops, looks around, and realizes that she’s at the door to Chase’s bedroom/garage. Oh, fuck her subconsciousness, honestly. Fuck that miserable, snivelling bitch. Why is it that she keeps going back to him when it hurts so much? It’s like a scab. If it itches, you keep picking at it, even after it starts to heal. There’s no ignoring the wound. 

 

Her eyes land on her car, or, to be more accurate, Dale’s car, and she’s suddenly hit by a barrage of memories of nights spent curled up in the backseat. It wasn’t perfect, but it’s familiar, more familiar than her bed here, if she’s being honest. There’s something about sleeping in the back of a car that makes her feel safe in some way. Maybe it’s that in a car, you can lock the doors. Her bedroom door here in the Hostel doesn’t have a lock on it, and it’s always grated on her. 

 

Wait, is she really considering this? Is she really going to sleep in the back of a car over a bed? There’s got to be something wrong with her. And Chase would probably catch her, anyway, and that wouldn't go over well- although...she’d be gone before he woke up, wouldn’t she?

 

Speaking of Chase, he’s not...actually in his hammock. Hm. Where is- oh, he’s asleep at his desk. She used to hate when he did that, because he’d always wake up the next morning with a crick in his neck and complain about it all day. Well, not her problem, now. 

 

...But he could get cold. It’s pretty chilly down here, you know. Gert, see, she’s got this big sweater, so she’ll be fine, but Chase is only wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. She should get him a blanket, at least. It’s only the nice thing to do. Wouldn’t want him getting hypothermia, or something. 

 

Gert grabs a quilt off the hammock on the other side of the room, then treks back to spread it over his shoulders. Chase hums a little in sleep, and she’s struck all at once by how young he looks. Like a little kid who fell asleep doing homework. There’s no worry or anger in his face- just peace. She hopes he’s having a good dream. It’s late enough in the night that she can have that thought and not feel like punching herself in the face.

 

She makes her way over to the car and climbs into the back seat, sprawling out. This big sweater of hers works as a perfect blanket, and she’s out like a light within minutes. Maybe it’s the sleeping in the car- or maybe it’s the muffled, comforting sound of Chase snoring lightly just outside it. Who’s to say?

 

**__________**

 

Gert has been sleeping in his room. Chase is pretty sure she doesn’t think he knows, but he does. It doesn’t matter that she only ever comes in when she thinks he’s asleep, and leaves before he wakes up- he knows. Gert is impossible to ignore, and when he wakes up each morning he can still smell her orange scented body wash in the air. It’s absolutely intoxicating.  

 

He kind of wishes she felt comfortable enough to come into his room while he was, y’know, awake, but that might upset the extremely delicate balance they have. They haven’t had a fight in three whole days, and Chase is gonna call that a win. 

 

It might just be because of their lack of interaction in said past three days, but that’s up in the air, really. Sure, they’ve been in the same room, but it was always during group activities. No room for him to fuck up around her if they’re both stuck listening to Nico and Alex’s constant paranoia speeches about PRIDE being so dead lately. It’s honestly annoying at this point- they just repeat the same things back at each other every time. To be honest, though, Chase has kind of realized that they’re only doing it because it’s one of the sole safe talking points at the moment. At least they’re not pestering Gert about where she’s been all this time. 

 

About that- Chase is, like, eighty percent sure he knows who she was with. He doesn’t want to voice it, but things just seem to add up- from the car to the sudden barrage of prog rock CDs now in their inventory. For now, though, he’ll keep his mouth shut- he’s good at that. He’s had to be, and being with his father, however short a time it was, gave him the unfortunate opportunity of brushing up on the skill. The minute he stepped inside the Stein family home, he was already standing straighter, treading more lightly, and watching each and every word he said. Mom was so proud of him, of her perfect son. He was just the way she’s always wanted him to be, respectable and proper and practically the opposite of himself. Of course, she never cared if it was the real him- just if he met her standards. She never cared about him at all. Dad cared, maybe a little. He wanted Chase to be like him, and that’s caring, right? 

 

He knows the answer is no, by the way. He knows that, logically, his father is a horrible person, who would take any chance he got to belittle and hurt him. But it’s hard to accept. Because aren’t your parents supposed to love you? Aren’t they supposed to care about their children?

 

Chase wants to stop thinking about this, now. All it does is make him wonder why he wasn’t good enough to be loved, wonder what he did wrong- and those questions and all the others like them either have no true answer or much too many. 

 

There’s a noise at the doorway, like someone clearing their throat, and he looks up, startled. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and he’d been working on repairs for the Rolls, but he’s more than willing to take a break once he sees who it is. It’s Gert, standing there with an apprehensive look on her face. “Um, hey.”

 

“Hi!” He says cheerily, all but jumping to his feet. Now that she’s here, his mood is instantly brightened. “What’s up?”

 

“I was just wondering if you could maybe help me with something?” Oh, she looks nervous. Chase hates that he makes her feel that way, now. “It’s, um, no biggie if you can’t, though. You’re probably busy.”

 

“I’m not. What do you need?” Chase wants to make it clear that he’d do anything she’d ask of him right now. Even if it was jumping on one foot for three hours or chopping off his own head. 

 

“Well, you’re, um, you’re good at the whole fighting thing, right? Like that’s something you’re- something you’re good at?” He nods, surprised at both the veiled compliment and the subject matter. “Would you teach me?”   
  


His brows crease. “Teach you?”

 

Gert rolls her eyes. “To fight, Chase. I want you to teach me to fight.”

 

Chase nods slowly, still processing. He doesn’t understand why this is something she’d want to learn- since when is she at all interested in anything exercise related at all, let alone knowing how to throw a punch? “Can I ask why? I mean, the answer is yes, obviously, I’ll teach you- but why is this something you’re interested in all of a sudden?”

 

“Why can’t I just want to know how to do something without there being some big grand reason behind it?” Gert says, throwing her arms out. He raises his eyebrows and says nothing, because the answer is clear. With Gert, there’s nearly always a big grand reason behind her actions. “Ugh, fine. I’m just...I’m tired of being the weak one, y’know? Like, everybody else has...something. I’m just the getaway driver.”

 

Chase frowns, because this makes no sense to him. “Gert, you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

 

Gert blanches, then all of a sudden turns a deep, deep shade of red. “W-well, I mean, u-um, I just meant- I’m not very accomplished, physically.”

 

He looks her up and down, disagreeing with this as well. Gert catches him, making an offended little noise and saying, “Not like that, pervert! Jesus. Y’know what, never mind, I’ll ask Molly-”

 

She starts to turn around, but before she can, Chase says, “Molly would literally break your ribs. Also, she doesn’t actually rely on much technique, she kinda just throws her weight around. It works for her, but it wouldn’t for you, I don’t think.”

 

“Yeah, the absence of super-strength might have something to do with that.” He huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. “So, you’ll teach me?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Once he’s cleared away enough space to do so, Chase spends the next hour and a half coaching her through the basics of how to throw a punch, what stance to use, stuff like that. She’s pretty dismal at it starting off, but after a good few tries she gets better at it. 

 

“Okay, okay, can we spar?” Gert asks eventually, slightly out of breath. “Not just me doing shit, like an actual fight.” 

 

“Uhhh,” he starts, not sure how to say,  _ I’m terrified I’d hurt you,  _ in a way that doesn’t sound wimpy.

 

“What?” Gert teases. “Scared you’d lose?”

 

Chase snorts, and she bops him on the arm. “Come on, fight me!”

 

She tries to hit him again, but this time, he blocks it, grabbing her forearm. Gert tries to struggle out of his grip, but when that doesn’t work, she uses her other fist and punches him squarely in the ribs. It doesn’t hurt, but it makes him surprised enough to let go, and from there, it’s too fast for him to catalog everything that’s happening properly. By the third time he stops a punch, though, he realizes where her weak spot is. 

 

“Okay, okay, pause,” he says, a little out of breath, and Gert relaxes from her honestly pretty decent fighting stance. “So, I think I know what your issue is.”

 

An eyebrow goes up. “Care to share with the class?”

 

“So, you’re small, right?”

 

Gert scoffs. “No, really, I hadn’t noticed.”   
  


“No, you’re not getting it. You’re small, but you don’t  _ use  _ it. The good thing about your height is that you have a lower center of gravity, and also, you’ve got some seriously pointy elbows that you could be using, but don’t.” Chase learned to fight when he was very young, younger than any kid should have to know anything about defending themself from someone twice their size. He should’ve applied that with her before now, he just...tries not to think about it too much. 

 

Gert nods. “That makes sense, actually.”

 

“See? I can be smart sometimes.”

 

She laughs a little, and they start up again, this time with the new techniques. The elbow thing works really well for her, and he’s proud, even if it means he’s definitely going to end up with a few bruises. 

 

She goes to punch him again, and this time, he catches her wrist with one hand. Unexpectedly, she cries out, and he lets go immediately. “Oh my God, are you okay?”   
  


“Fine,” she croaks, clutching her wrist lightly. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Gert, of course I’m going to worry about it, are you kidding? C’mere, let me see.” She twists her mouth up, but complies, stepping forward and holding her wrist out. She’s wearing a wristband that he hadn’t noticed before. He pushes it up, and…  _ “Woah. _ What happened?”

 

Gert looks down at the angry red marks on her wrist, eyes emotionless. “Handcuffs. After I got out the first time, he decided he couldn’t ‘trust me’ anymore…”

 

Chase’s chest feels tight with anger and sympathy and a sudden need to fight the entire world. “I’m going to  _ fucking  _ murder him.”

 

Gert smiles sadly. “You’re too late. How do you think I got away?”   
  


He stares at her, stunned. “You...you…”

 

“I didn’t kill him. But I stabbed him with the mind wipe serum, and that’s close enough, right?” Fuck, she looks miserable.

 

Without a word, Chase closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around her, gentle as he can manage. Gert melts into him, pressing her face into his chest. Softly, he asks, “So it  _ was _ your dad, then, who you were with.”

 

Gert looks up at him, eyes wet. “You can’t tell anybody. Especially not Molly.”

 

Chase shakes his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

She gives him a small smile, then pulls away. “Thanks. It was just- the whole experience was extremely not fun, like at all. I’m not ready to talk about it with her, yet, and she’s not ready to hear it. I know she hates them already, but the things he did…” she swallows drily, “I start to feel sick just thinking back on it.”

 

His chest feels tight. “I know you said it’s too late, but I really am going to murder him.”

 

Gert rolls her eyes, but in, like, a nice way. “Thanks. Also, I’ve been meaning to ask all day- why does your shirt say,  _ ‘I don’t keep calm, I’m a wrestling grandma’ _ ?”

 

He looks down at himself, noticing the lettering for the first time. He’s gotten so used to the weird sayings on these t-shirts that he doesn’t even notice it anymore. “Oh. I didn’t have clothes after I got rescued- what I hadn’t packed before I...left…had all mysteriously disappeared. So Nico dragged me to the thrift store and forced me to buy the ugliest clothes available as penance.”

 

“Ah. Sounds like her.” For some reason, though, she seems a little guilty. “Anyway, um…”

 

“Would you want me to patch you up a little? I’ve got a first aid kit.” Gert blinks at him, surprised, then nods. “Okay, cool. Just sit down, ‘kay?”

 

She does so, sinking down onto the workbench. Chase grabs the kit off one of his shelves, then sits down next to her, popping it open and gently holding her wrist in one hand. It’s quiet as Chase works, until he says, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

 

Her mouth twists up. “Depends on what it is, but shoot.”

 

Chase clears his throat, then asks the question that’s been bugging him for days, now. “What did you learn about Leslie that made you hate her so much? Besides the usual reasons- come on, Gert, I know there’s something.”

 

“You really want to know?” He nods, because obviously. “Okay. okay, fine. It’s been killing me, anyway- if I don’t tell someone soon, I’ll go insane.”   
  


“So? What is it?”

 

Gert meets his eyes, dead serious, now. “She murdered the Hernandezes.”

 

There’s a clattering sound, and they both turn to find Molly in the doorway, a devastated look on her face and a now broken bottle of bright red nail polish at her feet, the lacquer seeping into her socks.  _ “...What?” _

 

**__________**

 

This is possibly one of the worst things Nico has ever experienced. Watching Molly yell her head off at Leslie for this betrayal is absolutely wrecking her, knowing there’s nothing she can do to help or to comfort her. Once it was out, it was out- Leslie murdered the Hernandezes. They were all sitting down to supper when Molly had come storming in, Gert and Chase behind her, and started just ripping into Leslie. She still hasn’t stopped.

 

“I just don’t understand how you could comfort me like that, how you could be so kind, knowing it was all a lie! You told me it wasn’t my fault  _ knowing  _ it was yours!  _ Knowing  _ what you did!” Gert reaches out a hand to comfort her sister, but Molly swats her away. “And don’t even get me started on you! How could you keep this from me?”   
  


“What was I supposed to do, Molly? Demand we kick her out on the streets when she’d only just had a baby the  _ day  _ before? You think I want that on my conscience; on yours?” Molly crosses her arms, not saying anything. “Listen, Molls, I wasn’t keeping it from you out of some bullshit need to protect you, I need you to know that, okay? It was only for the kid.”

 

Molly nods, her eyes landing once again on Leslie. Elliot is sitting in her lap, scared by the commotion, and Leslie is comforting him, a complicated look on her face. Like she wants to scold everyone for scaring her child, and apologize to Molly at the same time. Or maybe Nico is imagining things. Maybe she doesn’t have that much humanity left in her. 

 

“You murdered my parents,” Molly says, quiet and hoarse, like she’s still getting used to it. God, this isn’t something Nico ever wanted her to go through- all she’s ever wanted for Molly was for her to feel safe, and loved, and protected, and Nico couldn’t even do that. She couldn’t keep the dangers of the world away from her family, no matter how hard she tried, and now Molly is paying the price. 

 

“And I feel badly about that.” At the words, Nico surges forward, arms outstretched to wrap her hands around Leslie’s throat, but she’s pulled back into her chair by Karolina. She doesn’t move again out of pure shock- Karolina has basically been a statue since Molly came storming in with the news. Nico reaches over to grab her girlfriend’s hand, and though she doesn’t look up, she does tighten her grip around Nico’s fingers. 

 

“I must say, I do not understand the commotion,” Xavin says, and Nico starts begging every deity out there for them to please, please shut the fuck up. “You knew she’d killed people. Why are these Hernandez people any different?”

 

“Those ‘Hernandez people’ were my  _ parents,” _ Molly says, shoulders shaking in anger. “And she didn’t have to kill them, she chose to. The others were part of the cultist bullshit, but my parents-” she turns on Leslie once again, “they were your  _ friends. _ How could you do that to your friends? How…?”

 

Overwhelmed, Molly all but collapses into the chair beside her, pulling her knees up to her chest and curling up into a little ball. Nico, who’s sat beside her, reaches out a hand, laying it on her friend’s shoulder. Molly looks up, eyes full of emotion. Nico gives her her most comforting smile, then murmurs, “We are never going to be like them.  _ Never. _ Okay?”

 

Molly nods. “I know. I just...I’m so overwhelmed. I don’t know what to say, honestly.”

 

On her other side, Gert crouches down beside her sister, grabbing her hand. “I do.” She turns to Leslie, voice surprisingly even as she says, “You’re leaving. I don’t care how it happens, anymore. You’re leaving, and you’re  _ not  _ coming back.”

 

**__________**

 

Karolina hates arguments. She hates the yelling, and inability to come to a decision, and all around tension they involve, especially when it’s with her friends. Leslie and Elliot have gone back to their room, and Molly, Gert, and Chase have gone away somewhere, like a pair of divorced parents forced to be civil again for the sake of the kid’s sanity. It probably won’t go well, but Karolina has hope that it will, if only so Molly can actually be comforted. Although, it kind of seemed like they’d been spending time together earlier this afternoon, before the news broke, so maybe there’s more of a chance of that than expected. 

 

You know what sucks the most, about being told that very news? She wasn’t surprised. Karolina was not shocked even in the slightest to learn that her mother had killed the Hernandezes, and isn’t that one of the saddest things you’ve ever heard? 

 

She misses the days when she thought she had a good family. She misses the days when she could go to sleep at night unworried for the next day, because she knew her family had her back. Her friends say that  _ they’re  _ a family, now, and Karolina wants to believe that. She really, really does. It’s just...hard, sometimes. Family is your blood, that’s what Mom always taught her. 

 

_ But Mom hasn’t been the most reliable, has she?  _ Says that voice in her head that sounds way too much like Jiminy Cricket.  _ Perhaps it’s time for you to stop believing what the adults are telling you and have some thoughts of your own. _

Maybe the voice is right. All this time, she’s been trying so hard to hold on to her old family, that she couldn’t see the new one that was right in front of her. Maybe. 

 

“Let me solve this,” Xavin says loudly, shaking her out of her thoughts. “I’ll go with Mrs. Dean. It’s my duty to protect the heir, and-”  
  
“What? No!” Karolina says. “You can’t leave!”  
  


Nico’s eyebrows go alllll the way up. “And why’s that, now?”

 

“Don’t be like that,” she replies. Usually Nico’s jealousy is kind of a turn on, if she’s honest, but she just can’t handle that right now. “You know as well as I do how vital they’ve been. You guys wouldn’t have saved me or Chase without them.”

 

“Plus,” Alex interrupts, “they’re a part of the family.”

 

Xavin sucks in a breath in surprise, and when Karolina turns to them, they look absolutely overcome with joy. “I am?”   
  


Though she’s still apprehensive about that word, Karolina nods. “Yeah, Xav, of course.”   
  


Xavin gives her a bright smile- but it falls from their face not seconds later. “But what do we do, then? The heir must be kept safe, and Mrs. Dean is in no shape to take the proper precautions, let alone that the child is much too young to travel just yet.”   
  


“Why do you keep saying that?” Alex asks. “‘The heir’, I mean.”

 

“Well, only that Elliot is now the first male in the Magistrate bloodline, and therefore-”

 

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up,” Nico says, “First  _ male?” _

 

“Sounds pretty sexist to me.” Karolina screws up her mouth, contemplating. “Then again, I wouldn’t expect better from my father, and why would I even want to be the heiress of some alien cult, anyway? Although, how would they even know Elliot exists? He’s only a week old, and my mother will be gone long before we run into PRIDE again, or the fanatics at my church. And if we’re asked, we can just say that she left before she gave birth, or something.”

 

“That still doesn’t solve our original question: how do make her leave without endangering Elliot?” Oh, she hates when Alex makes good points, it’s so annoying.

 

“Well...maybe he stays with us, and Mom goes off by herself?” She knows it would never work the moment it comes out of her mouth, but she still has to say it. At their incredulous looks, she says, “Come on, guys, I’ve only had a brother for a week, is it so bad that I want him to stay?”

 

“Karolina, love, as much as I want that for you, we’re  _ teenagers. _ We couldn’t take care of an infant.” Nico reaches out to her, but Karolina pulls away, not even realizing she’s doing it until she sees the hurt look on her girlfriend’s face.

 

She sighs, the hope draining out of her. “I know, I know. I just- he’s my  _ brother.” _

 

“And there’s no saying you won’t ever see him again, Karrie, but we could never take care of a kid that young. We struggle enough with Molly, and she’s a  _ teenager. _ It just wouldn’t be safe.” She hates how much Nico is making sense right now. It’s not fair- why couldn’t she have just been hysterical, or something? Then Karolina could have won the argument and got to keep her baby brother with her. But, no.

 

Karolina nods, all hope draining from her as she says, “Y-you’re right. So, what do we do, then? Wait a week then ship her off to some tropical island?”   
  


Alex’s expression turns to one of contemplation. “That’s not such a bad idea. I mean, it’s not like we don’t have the magical means.”

 

Nico’s eyes widen. “I am not using my one teleportation spell on Leslie Dickbag Dean. I’ve been saving that up!”

 

“Well, you have a week to brainstorm,” Xavin says lightly, “And you’re more than intelligent. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

 

Karolina meets their eyes, surprised at the complementary tone. Nico and Xavin butt heads more than anyone she knows,  _ including  _ Gert and Chase. “That was really nice of you, Xav.”

 

“Yes, well,” they start, eyes a little sad, “I’m starting to realize that fighting those you are so fond of doesn’t really get me anywhere.”

 

Nico’s fists clench, and Karolina reaches over, covering her girlfriend’s hand with hers. Beside them, Alex’s eyes go wide in apprehension, and he backs out of the room in a hurry. Wise choice. “Xavin, as much as I like being your  _ friend-” _   
  


“No, don’t, I don’t think I can handle the rejection speech today.” They look down, arms crossed. 

 

Karolina sighs sadly, then turns to Nico. “Will you give us a minute?”

 

Nico raises her eyebrows, but upon seeing the look on Karolina’s face, she nods, standing up and heading out the door. Karolina watches her leave, then turns to Xavin with an apprehensive smile. “So, Xavin, listen-”

 

“I just told you that I didn’t want to do this today,” they say, arms crossed. “Haven’t enough things happened?”

 

“But this is a conversation we need to have, I think.” She gets up and moves to stand across from them, placing a hand at their elbow. “I know you say that you and I are destined, and I know you travelled so far and waited so long to meet me. But what do you  _ know  _ about me, Xavin? What’s my favourite colour? My middle name?”   
  


They look down at their feet. “If I knew all the right answers, I would give them to you gladly.”

 

“But that’s the thing, right? You don’t know the answers?” They nod. “Yeah. and I don’t know those things about you, either. I would like to, though. I would love to get to know you. But as  _ friends.” _   
  


Xavin swallows. “Friends...I don’t think I’ve ever had a true friend.”

 

“Well, then I’d love the pleasure of being your very first. And so would everyone else, okay?”

 

They nod, but still don’t look entirely satisfied. “May I...may I ask you something?”

 

Karolina smirks. “So long as it isn’t my hand in marriage, go right ahead.”   
  


“Does she make you happy? Nico, I mean.”

 

Karolina grins, answering straight away. There’s no such thing as a relationship without doubt, but this is the one thing that she knows for sure. “The happiest.”

 

**__________**

 

“Hey, you got a minute?” 

 

Karolina turns at the sound of his voice, pasting on a grin. “Alex! Sure, what do you need?”   
  


“Oh, I don’t need anything, not for me, anyway.” Well, not technically. Really, checking on her is for the good of the group, seeing as one of them being upset often results in all of them being upset, but it’s also because...well, if he’s being honest? He’s worried about her. “I was just wondering if you’re feeling alright.”

 

Karolina snorts as he sits down next to her on the couch in the common room. “I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Memento.”

 

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, ignoring the twisty feeling in his stomach. “But you certainly went through some shit today.”

 

She nods, blonde hair falling into her face as she does so. She gets it out of her eyes with a huff of air, then says, “That I did. But I’m fine. I mean, it’s not like it was this big shock, or anything.”

 

He raises an eyebrow. “It wasn’t?”

 

Karolina shrugs. “I’ve known for a long time that she was a bad person. Learning she murdered the parents of one of my best friends doesn’t really change my view of her. It just...cements what I already knew, I guess.”

 

“I felt that one,” he says, thinking of Darius. “Parents really are the worst, huh?”

 

“Worse than worse. Especially when they try and get you to see ‘their side’ and sympathize with them. And especially when...you fall for it.”

 

He nods, understanding who she’s talking about. “Jonah.”

 

“Yeah, him. Bastard.” He laughs a little, surprised at the vulgarity, and she turns on him with a halfhearted glare. “What? I can swear!”   
  


“I mean, logically, sure, but it’s weird to hear you say it. It’s like hearing Cinderella call someone a little bitch.” Karolina is definitely more of the Sleeping Beauty type, though, now that he thinks about it. Trust him, Disney is his  _ shit. _

 

Karolina snorts. “Yeah, I guess that’d be pretty funny.”

 

He nudges her lightly. “See? I can be right sometimes.”   
  


“I never said you can’t be right.” He rolls his eyes, not in a mean way, though. Just disbelieving. “Okay, okay, fine, I may have implied once or twice that your decisions can end in chaos.”

 

He snorts. “Only once or twice, huh?”

 

“Okay, three times, tops.” She holds up her hands, palms open. “I’m not  _ that  _ mean.”

 

“Nah, ‘course not.” There’s a bout of silence, but the comfortable kind. The kind between friends. Of course, he can’t Do silence, so he says, “You sure you’re feeling alright, though? Especially with that thing with Xavin, I mean, are you and Nico good?”

 

Karolina’s mouth twists up. “I guess. I just...I don’t know. She’s hard to talk to, sometimes. She’s not very good at voicing her feelings.”

 

“You ever think that’s because people usually don’t take her feelings into account? You know what her parents were like, and after Amy…” God, does he miss Amy. She’d totally know what to do with something like this. If she were here, they’d be so much better at all of this.

 

She swallows. “I really miss her, sometimes.”

 

“Me, too.”

 

Karolina sighs, then leans against his shoulder, and for a while, they just sit. He said that he’s not good with silence, but Karolina makes it easier. It doesn’t make him feel itchy, around her. Her presence is comforting, like sunshine, or a gentle breeze. She reminds him of a summer day- warm and comforting. And don’t they all need a few more easy summer days in their lives?

  
  



	7. A Dream We Can Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sparring, spells, and singing.

Nico has learned that she quite enjoys fighting. Only the physical kind, though, and only when she wins. Which is why when she’s looking for someone to train with, she usually goes to Chase. He’s good, sure- but she’s  _ better. _

 

She also needs to ask him for advice, which she’s aware is kind of like asking a fish for help with running, but he’s better than the alternative. Plus, for some insane reason, she finds his presence sort of comforting. Hanging out with him is like hanging out with your dumb little brother who insists on the crusts being cut off of all of his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Nico has actually seen him do this, by the way, she’s not just pulling it out of her ass. 

 

So, they’re sparring. Sort of. To be more accurate, they’re duking it out to the sounds of her favourite heavy metal station. But in a fun way. And, yes, she’s beating him, same as she always does.

 

Deciding that she actually wants to talk, now, she ends the match with one well placed knee to the ribs. Chase groans, doubling over in pain. “Jesus, Nico, take it easy!”   
  


“Sorry,” she says, not very sorry at all as she shuts off the nearby radio. “Anyway, I need your advice.”

 

Still rubbing at the spot where she kneed him, Chase asks, “About what?”

 

“Well, I, um…” ah, here it comes. Nico’s innate inability to talk about her feelings.  _ Come on, dummy, spit it out. _ “Karolina isn’t talking to me. I mean, she is, but ever since that stuff with Leslie, she’s been shutting me out, and I...I don’t know know what to do, so...advice time.”

 

His eyebrows go up. “And you’re asking  _ me?” _

 

“Well, yeah.” She bops him lightly on the arm. “Come on, Obi Wan, you’re my only hope.”   
  


Chase shakes his head lightly, then says, “Alright, alright. If it was me, I’d approach her, tell her how her recent behaviour has been making you feel-”

 

“Ew, no! Why would I ever talk about my  _ feelings?”  _ She shakes her head, disbelieving. “Listen, you know me. I don’t do that kind of stuff.”

 

He tilts his head at her. “You did, once.”

 

“Yeah, well…” Nico swallows, looking away and forcing herself not to think of the days where yellow was her favourite colour and she and Amy would watch Disney movies every weekend. She’s not that girl, not anymore. That girl died with Amy. “Things are different, now. A lot has changed since then.”   
  


Chase snorts. “No shit. But all I’m saying is, all the mushy-gushy stuff? Not as bad as you make it out to be. And having mature, honest conversations about how you’re feeling- well, it really helps, is all I’m saying.”

 

Nico twists her mouth up, grumpy, even though this is what she asked for. Chase sighs. “If you don’t talk about it, it’ll fester, and you’ll end up even more upset than you were in the first place.”

 

“I’m not upset!”   
  


Chase’s eyebrows rest their case, and Nico crosses her arms, annoyed at how much sense he’s making. A boy wearing a tank top that says  _ got teeth?  _ across the front should not be allowed to be this sensible. Gert’s been rubbing off on him. “Fine, I might be a little upset.”

 

“And that’s okay. You’re allowed to have emotions, Nico, you don’t have to bottle everything up.” Well, that hit a little bit too close to home. Time for a subject change!

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyway, speaking of relationship troubles, how’s Gert?”

 

“Oh, Gert...Gert is great.” He says it with a small, hopeful smile on his face, and Nico has to repress the urge to coo out loud like some suburban mother taking prom photos. When Chase says Gert’s name, it always sounds as though he means to say something more intimate, and changed his mind at the last second. Nico has always thought the most intimate thing you could call someone is their name, but when Gert’s name comes out of Chase’s mouth, it sounds like  _ baby, honey,  _ or  _ sweetheart,  _ so maybe it’s all the same, really.

 

“Is she? I thought she was still, like, super pissed at you, though.”   
  


“Oh, she is. But we hang out most days now, even if we don’t do much talking.” Nico’s eyebrows go allll the way up. She did  _ not  _ think Gert was wild enough to be okay with having a fuck buddy, but- “Oh my God, not like that! I’m teaching her how to fight, Jesus Christ.”

 

“Ohhhh. That makes way more sense.” The words do remind her of what they were doing prior to this, though. “Speaking of, wanna go another round?”

 

“Sure. Weapons, this time? I’ve been working on a new thing with the gauntlets, I wanna test it out.” Uh-oh. This could mean anything from super sonic blasts to a fart gun feature, and Nico isn’t all too eager to find out. But he helped her, so fair is fair, right?

 

“Alright, hit me.” Chase grins excitedly, strapping on the gauntlets. He gets into the proper stance, aims, and fires a stream of purple coloured light. Nico holds out the staff, booming,  **_“WALL!”_ **

 

Instead of the perfectly fine brick wall she’d been picturing, there’s a burst of light, and suddenly, geese are popping into existence and flying around the room, panicked. Yes, you heard that right-  _ geese. _

 

“Oh my God, what did you do?!?” Chase asks, rushing to her side. He looks more panicked than the squawking birds surrounding them.

 

“”I don’t know! I guess- I guess because I’ve used that spell before? How do we fix this?” She crowds closer to him, more than a little scared at how angry the birds look. Who knew geese had so many teeth?

 

“You’re asking me?!?” Chase asks, snatching a broom from where it had been leaning against the wall to start ushering the birds away from him. “Nico, I’m deathly afraid of geese!”

 

“YOU’RE DEATHLY AFRAID OF EVERYTHING!” She shouts as she scurries away from one of the geese who has suddenly taken interest in her. She eyes her staff only ten feet from her, where she’d dropped it now moments ago. If she could just reach it…

 

“ALSO TRUE!” Chase sees where she’s looking and reaches down to grab the staff, chucking it at her from across the room. She hadn’t noticed until now, but the geese have split them up, like predators isolating prey. Wait, are geese predators? Fuck. 

 

Nico holds the staff high above her head and yells at the top of her lungs,  **_“Geese-be-gone!”_ ** **_  
  
_ **

And just like that, the geese disappear in a puff of smoke and, bizarrely, a set of goose-down pillows. Huh. Nico walks towards them and crouches down, running a hand over the fabric to make sure they’re really goose-down. They are. Nico swallows, feeling weirdly sick to her stomach. “I have  _ got _ to get this thing under control. Like, this shouldn’t have happened, it should have just stayed dormant, not produced spontaneous geese.” Nico sighs, feeling tired. “But maybe it’s just how frazzled I’m feeling today, I dunno.”

 

“Y-yeah,” Chase says, looking mighty frazzled himself. “And h-hey, now you have a peace offering, right? For Karolina.”

 

Nico gasps as she stands back up. He’s beside her, now, and kind of still shaking. “Oh my God, you’re a genius.”

 

Chase grins. “Don’t hear that one very often.”

 

She reaches over and pinches his cheek, like her grandmother used to do. All this time she’s been worried about turning into her mother, but really, it was turning into Grandmother Mei that she had to be worried about. “Well, we’ll have to fix that, then.”

 

Though she had expected complaining and to be waved off, Chase doesn’t whine, just grins and bares it. Thinking of his parents, Nico wonders if anyone has ever treated him this way, even as a child. She knows the answer is probably no, which pisses her off to know end. Every kid deserves family to love and embarrass them. Ah, well. She and the rest of their family will just have to do it in their stead.

 

**__________**

 

“Um, hey…can we talk?”

 

Karolina freezes. She recovers quickly, setting the magazine she’d been reading down on the bedside table, but she’s sure Nico still notices. She shifts to sit next to her on the bed, suddenly apprehensive. “...About what?”

 

Nico steps towards the bed, looking just as uncomfortable as Karolina feels as she sits down on the edge of the bed. “Um, so, I’ve been having...feelings. Of a certain kind. And I’d like to talk to you about them.”

 

Her eyebrows go up. “What sort of feelings?”

 

Nico twists her mouth up and looks down at her lap. “Ever since we heard about your mom, you’ve been- you’ve been shutting me out, Karrie. I get that this is hard, and I get that you’re upset about Elliot. But I’m right here with you, and- and I don’t like when you act like I don’t exist even though I’m standing right next to you.”

 

The words come out halting and quiet, like she’s having a hard time saying them, and suddenly Karolina feels right to the brim with guilt. She hadn’t meant to shut her out, she swears it. But before this, before  _ Nico _ , Karolina never had someone to talk about this stuff with, and as such, never had to worry about shutting them out. Sure, she had her friends, her parents, but she’s never been as close to anyone as she is to Nico, and she has to adjust to that. She feels like her whole life has just been adjusting to things, lately. 

 

Karolina crosses her arms, berating herself internally. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I really don’t mean to, sometimes it’s just…”

 

“Easier?”

 

She nods. “Yeah.”

 

Nico reaches for her hand, and Karolina lets her entangle their fingers. She looks down at their entwined hands, already calmer than she was at the start of this conversation. She gives Nico a small smile, and she grins right back before saying, “I get it, Karolina. You of all people know how shit I am at this stuff. But I’m  _ trying,  _ and for this to work, you have to, too. It can’t just be all me.”

 

There’s a weight to the words, like maybe she means more than she’s saying. What’s that word Gert likes to use? Double entrée? 

 

“I’ve never meant for it to just be you, Nico,” she says, squeezing her girlfriend’s hand. “I never realized you felt that way.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Nico replies, shrugging uncomfortably. “I’m good at hiding it, I guess. I’m just- I feel like it’s all on my shoulders, sometimes. Like I’m holding up the world with my puny little arms and, like, failing! Every day there’s something new, and- and you shutting me out does nothing to help, and neither does your, like, inability to talk to the rest of them anymore.”

 

Karolina’s brows crease at the rush of words. It’s clear that it all came spilling out of her once she got going, but she just doesn’t understand. “What’s  _ that  _ supposed to mean?”

 

Nico swallows, embarrassed. “Never mind.”

 

“No, you said you wanted to talk, we’re talking. Don’t stop now.”

 

Nico sighs, then says, “Fine, fine. I just feel like...you separate yourself from the group, a lot of the time. Like, I almost never see you hanging out with anyone but me. I get wanting to be alone, I get wanting time to yourself- but I dunno. I just worry about you isolating yourself, because  _ I _ did that, and my life sucked for two years. We’re a family, now, and you’re a part of it.”

 

The  _ act like it _ isn’t said out loud, but Karolina still hears it. Her skin is super itchy and her face is really hot- is this what embarrassment feels like?

 

She crosses her arms, looking away from her as she tries to figure out what to say. Finally deciding, she swallows, then tells her, “You’re right. I think it’s just because this whole...friendship thing has never been something I’m good at, and I don’t know how to get better at it. Whenever I try I always end up saying something mean, especially with Gert. It’s not on purpose, not really, but it’s just...habit, maybe. I was a jerk in middle school.”

 

Nico huffs a laugh. “Babe, everybody was a jerk in middle school.”

 

“Yeah, but, I dunno. I think I was overcompensating. I was totally in denial about the whole lesbian thing, and I was just, like, so pissed, all the time, so I took it out on everyone else. And then I never learned how to be a good friend, because we all split up, like, right after middle school.” Wow, talking shit out really helps, huh? She’d never thought about this stuff before, like, at all.

 

Nico nods. “But it’s not middle school anymore. And our- ugh, I hate this word, but our ‘success’ depends on us being able to work as a team and trust each other. Trust is the  _ most  _ important thing in a friendship.”

 

Karolina smirks, teasing, “What, am I not trustworthy?”

 

Nico’s eyes go wide as saucers. “Oh my God, of course you are! I just meant-“

 

“I know what you meant, Nico. I’m messing with you.”

 

“Oh.” Nico frowns, seemingly at herself. “Oops.”

 

Karolina laughs, then says, “And I get what you mean. I’ll try harder, okay? Both with the shutting you out thing and the friendship thing. And I really am sorry.”

 

“Aw, it’s okay,” Nico says, pulling her in for a hug. “You’re forgiven.”

 

Karolina hugs back, and in Nico’s arms, she suddenly feels like everything is going to be okay.

 

**__________**

 

“Um, what are you doing in my car?” Gert asks when she walks into the garage that afternoon. They’re supposed to be sparring right now- it only took a few days for herself and Chase to realize that they needed a schedule- but Chase is not prepared in the slightest. In fact, he’s quite the opposite, seeing as he’s doing some fuckshit that involves a lot of clanging and grunting in her car right now. And not  _ under _ her car, in the  _ backseat.  _

 

“Oh, hey!” His voice calls from inside. Gert crouches down to get a better look at him, but she still can’t tell what he’s up to. Chase shifts to sit up, scooting to the edge of the seat. “I’m just making some adjustments.”

 

Her brows crease. “In what way?”

 

“Well, sleeping in the backseat can’t be all too comfortable,”  _ WAIT, WHAT?  _ “so I was just fixing some stuff up so it’s better for you.”

 

Gert crosses her arms, uncomfortable. “I didn’t know you, um, knew.”

 

“What am I, stupid? ‘Course I knew.” Okay, cool, Gert needs to go find a hole to curl up and die in, now. God, she’s never going to be able to look him in the eyes again. “Aw, come on, don’t be embarrassed. I’m not gonna make fun of you, or something.”

 

“You’re not?” Still not looking at him. She can’t. “And, yes, I’m going to be embarrassed, because I went to great lengths to make  _ sure  _ you didn’t know, and you still found me out. Sherlockian bastard.”

 

Chase laughs, and she hates the way her stomach flips. “Fine, fine, feel how you want. And, no, of course I’m not going to make fun of you. What’s there to make fun of? If you find it easier to sleep down here, I’m the last person who’d turn you away. I’ve learned my lesson, Gert.”

 

Ah. This is about...the other thing, now. The big thing. Y’know, where he walked out on her and betrayed her trust? That thing.

 

Gert is closer to forgiving him than she was last month, last week, or even yesterday. But she’s not there yet. She doesn’t know what it’s going to take for her to reach that point- but maybe that’s for Chase to figure out.

 

So she nods, and says, “So, what are these ‘adjustments’?”

 

Chase gets that super excited look on his face that she’s always found majorly adorable. “Well, I added these extra pieces that slide out and give you more room, and they can slide right back in so we can still use it as a, y’know, car. I got the spare parts when me and Molls went to the junkyard the other day.”

 

Gert nods again. They’ve all been doing their best to keep Molly out of the house until Leslie leaves tomorrow. They’re all slightly worried she’ll end up going postal and Leslie will end up incapacitated. Not that she wouldn’t deserve it, but it  _ would  _ delay her departure. “That’s really great, Chase. Um- thank you.”

 

He grins, and it’s such a charming smile that if this were a cartoon there would be visible sparkles. “You’re very welcome. So, sparring?”

 

They get set up, then start the first round. By this point, their training is more rigid- Chase even found a mat, so they’re not in danger of head injuries, anymore. They go a few rounds, but Chase keeps  _ beating  _ her. She knows she told him not to go easy on her, but  _ Jesus, _ she’s tired of getting her ass kicked.

 

“Are we going again?” Chase asks after the fourth round. “Or are you sick of losing?”

 

Gert’s fists clench at both his cocky tone and how much she’s (unwillingly) attracted to it. “I’m not going to lose this time.”

 

He raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

 

They start up once more, and he’s immediately got the upper hand. But Gert refuses to give up this time. She  _ needs  _ to win. 

 

And suddenly, like thinking it willed it into existence, she starts gaining a lead. Chase aims for her, but she blocks it swiftly, then hits back, punching him right between the ribs. He sucks in a breath, and tries again, but she blocks that, too. Chase charges, but she just steps out of the way and sticks out her leg and suddenly he’s on the ground. 

 

He hits the mat with a loud  _ thunk,  _ and after the initial shock, bursts into laughter. “You got me!”

 

Pride fills her right to the brim as she fully realizes what’s just happened. She  _ bet  _ him. Her! Gert Yorkes! “I did! I  _ won!  _ Take  _ that!” _

 

He laughs again, sticking out a hand. “Yep, you won. Help me up?”

 

Still high off adrenaline, Gert grabs his hand to do so- and suddenly she’s down on the mat beside him. She gasps in surprise and indignation at his dirty tricks, punching him lightly between the ribs. “Hey, that’s cheating! I still won!”

 

Chase waggles his eyebrows, which is, unfortunately, adorable. “Oh, did you?”

 

She makes a frustrated sound, reaching out to push him away, but Chase grabs her wrist before she can. Oh, so that’s how he wants to play it?

 

It’s only one or two more swats at each other before it turns into full on wrestling. She’d like to say she’s serious about it, but, truthfully, they’re giggling the whole time, like little children play-fighting. 

 

Eventually, she ends up on top of him, holding him down by the wrists. Chest heaving, she says, “See? I win!”

 

Chase gives her an unexpectedly soft smile. “Yeah, you got me.”

 

For a long moment, they just grin at each other, until Gert realizes their position and how close they are and that she could probably kiss him right now if she really wanted to and oh, yeah, she needs to get up. 

 

She rolls off of him, flopping back on the mat. Feeling awkward, she says, “Um, sorry.”

 

Chase turns to look over at her, hazel eyes crinkled up at the corners. God, he’s fucking gorgeous. In a soft tone, he tells her, “No need to apologize.”

 

Gert makes a strangled noise that could be considered an agreement in some languages, then gets to her feet, mumbling something about having something to do before supper and rushing out of the room. 

 

She spends the hours between then and going to sleep avoiding him all together, annoyed at...well, everything. Mostly Chase, for being so damn attractive. She’s supposed to be mad at him- she  _ is  _ mad at him- but every time she sees his dumb handsome face, with the Roman nose and the straight teeth and the gorgeous honey coloured eyes, she feels like melting into a puddle of goo. It’s fucking annoying.

 

Around eleven PM, she sneaks downstairs in her pyjamas, blanket and pillow in hand. The sneaking is futile- Chase is sat up in his hammock, drawing in a dollar store sketchbook. When she walks into the room, he looks up, grinning. “Hey.”

 

Oh, no, he’s wearing his glasses. Gert is  _ extremely  _ weak for those glasses- it’s a wonder he only needs them as reading glasses, she’d probably die on the spot if he wore them all the time. “H-hey. I’m gonna, um, sleep here.”   
  


He nods. “I know. I told you it was okay, Gert.”

 

“Right.” Suppressing the frankly pathetic urge to just climb into bed with him, Gert heads to her car, opening the door and turning the dial for the extension to pop out. It really is incredibly cool. She climbs in, saying, “Good night, Chase.”

 

He turns his head, meeting her eyes with a soft look. “Good night, Gert.”

 

She nods, feeling a little odd as she closes the car door and lies down. She breathes in, and realizes something absolutely  _ terrible. _ The  _ entire car _ smells like Chase. It smells like him and his dumb cologne and his even dumber body wash. It’s both a comfort and a torture, but either way, she’s asleep in minutes. 

 

And goodness knows she needs the rest, with what’s happening tomorrow. 

 

**__________**

 

Why can’t Molly catch a break? It’s unfair, really. At this point, she’s ready to accuse the universe of racism and lesbophobia. Well, maybe just basic homophobia. She’s not entirely sure about the whole lesbian thing yet- but that’s for another time. Another time when she’s not watching yet another adult she once trusted leave her life probably forever. 

 

Leslie’s bags are packed, and they’re all standing around her, waiting for Nico to cast the spell. The only reason she hasn’t left yet is that the rest of them are still saying goodbye to Elliot. Molly has already given the infant one last cuddle and kiss on the forehead, so she’s just waiting, now. All have finished saying their goodbyes except for Karolina and Nico. Old Lace even nuzzled her snout against Elliot’s hand. Karolina is definitely stalling, but as much as she wants to, Molly keeps her mouth shut about it. She’s only known Elliot for a bit over a week and a half, and she’d still, like, die for him. She can’t imagine how Karolina must be feeling. 

 

Eventually, Karolina hands the child to Nico, who looks down at his peaceful face, looks back up at Leslie, and asks, “Can I give him a gift? Like- like a boon, or whatever?”

 

Leslie’s eyebrows go up, but Molly is too busy trying to figure out what a boon is to really listen to her response. 

 

Apparently it’s a yes, because Nico looks down at the child with a nervous smile on her face. Karolina hands her the staff, and she keeps Elliot in the crook of her arm as she holds it out with her other hand.  **_“Safe passage.”_ **

 

A small burst of glitter drifts down onto Elliot’s head, and he giggles. Next to her, Gert mumbles something about keeping to ‘the elements’, but not loud enough to hear unless you’re standing right beside her. 

 

Nico presses a kiss to Elliot’s forehead, then hands him back to Leslie. She looks down at her child’s face, then back up to Nico. “Thank you.”

 

“It wasn’t for you.” Leslie’s face sours, and Molly tamps down on a laugh. She desperately wants to give Nico a high five, but abstains. “So, are you ready?”

 

Leslie nods. “All set. You know, I really can’t thank you enough-”

 

“Go screw yourself,” Nico says coldly. “You hurt my family, I’m not doing niceties.”

 

Leslie nods, pretending to be sad. Ha! As if she has feelings! She turns to Karolina, offering her daughter a smile full of (fake) emotion. “Goodbye, Karolina.”

 

Karolina’s mouth twists up, and she looks away. “Bye, Mom. Keep him safe.”

 

Leslie nods, and Nico asks again, “Okay, now are you ready?”   
  


She nods once more, and Nico says, “Alright, here we go.” 

 

She sucks in a breath, then starts to sing,  **_“Bahama Mama, got the biggest house in town, Bahama Mama…”_ **

 

An ocean breeze wafts into the room, playing with the girls’ hair and tugging all of their clothes every which way. It gets stronger, focusing in on Leslie, Elliot, and their bags, turning white with the power of the gale. Only moments later, it dies down before dissipating completely, and the space where Leslie once stood is empty. 

 

Molly’s body relaxes for the first time in days.  _ Finally. _ She’s so glad she doesn’t have to look at Leslie’s face anymore. One more day of being in the same house as her and she might’ve literally gone feral. And, besides, they didn’t need her, anyways. She wasn’t part of the family, despite the blood relation. 

 

A tiny part of her does wish she’d never found out, though. Maybe it would’ve been better, even if she was being lied to every day. At least she would’ve had an adult who cared about her around. 

 

But, hey. She’s got her family. They care about her, and always will care about her, just as she’ll care about them. And maybe that’s all she needs, really. 

 

That night, she heads off to bed earlier than usual, hoping to catch up on the sleep she’s missed. She doesn’t. She just lies in bed and stares up at the ceiling, wondering why these things keep happening to her, same as she has for the past seven nights. Same as she has for a long while, actually. Every night, she tortures herself with these thoughts, then falls asleep and has nightmare after nightmare. It’s horrible- she’s barely been sleeping. 

 

At around 10:30, there’s a knock on her door. “Who is it?”   
  


“Me,” Gert’s voice says on the other side. “Can I come in?”

 

Molly thinks for a moment, then says, “Okay.”   
  


The door opens, and Gert steps inside, Old Lace trailing in past her and curling up on the floor at the end of the bed. Gert makes her way to the bed herself, sitting down at the edge and asking, “Do you want me to stay with you for a while?”

 

Molly swallows. She really doesn’t want to be alone. “Just until I fall asleep?”

 

Gert nods, then climbs into bed with her, pulling the blanket up to her chest. Molly curls up against her sister, pressing her face into her shoulder. “Sometimes I feel like the whole universe hates me.”

 

Gert hums, then says, “Maybe. But, really, the universe isn’t capable of love  _ or  _ hate, so.”

 

Molly scrunches her nose up, saddened by the thought. “Poor universe.”

 

Her sister laughs a little, finding Molly’s hand in the blankets and squeezing. “Yeah. Poor universe.”

 

They talk for a little while longer, until Molly feels herself falling asleep. She’s nearly fully conked out when Gert presses a kiss to the space between her brows and gets out of bed. The last thing she hears before she falls asleep is her sister whispering goodnight and the door creaking to a close. And for the first time in a long time, Molly falls asleep...and doesn’t dream.

 

**__________**

 

This has probably been the longest day in the history of ever, and an executive decision has been made that one who has gone through such a day definitely deserves a drink.

 

If she were here right now, Nico would probably say something to the effect of,  _ Alex, alcohol is expensive, you should share! _ But Nico isn’t here right now, so he doesn’t have to care what she thinks.  _ She’s  _ upstairs with her loving girlfriend, while he’s down here all alone. 

 

It’s not that he’s upset about Nico and Karolina, specifically. He got over that a long, long time ago, and he’s really, genuinely happy for them. It’s more that he wants what they  _ have. _ A loving, healthy, relationship? Somebody to hold you at the end of the day when you’re worn out and tired? Yeah, he’d kill for that.

 

**_Oh, killing, I love killing!_ ** Says an odd, unhinged voice in his head, and his eyes go wide as he looks down at the bottle of Jack in fear. What the fuck is  _ in  _ this?

 

 ** _No, keep drinking!_** Says the voice. **_Drinking is fun!_**

 

Kind of terrified, now, he puts the bottle on his bedside table and turns over in bed. He curls up into a ball, the voice goading him.  **_Come on, it’ll be fine! Drinking is so fun! Lowering your inhibitions, having a bit of fun, taking your mind off of things, lowering your inhibitions…_ **

 

He doesn’t bite, and the voice makes an odd sort of growling noise.  **_Fine. we’ll do it my way._ **

And suddenly, he’s not in control anymore. Something-  _ someone- _ else has taken the reins. Entire body shaking in fear, he sits up again, grabbing the bottle and unscrewing it. Terrified but with no way to stop it, he tips the bottle back and takes a long pull. 

 

 ** _Drink, kid,_** says the voice. It’s louder, now. More sinister. **_And then we can have some fun._**

**__________**

 

_ “No, dad, don’t!” Chase screams, but it’s too late. His father’s hands are pushing against his chest and sending him back into the pool behind him. He hits the water with a hard slap, and starts to sink like a rock, too shocked to fight it, at first. Chase is eleven years old, he doesn’t know how to swim, and he’s going to die. _

 

_ He starts to flail, frantic as he tries to get his head above the water. It’s not working,  _ **_nothing_ ** _ is working, and he’s running out of air. His head feels like it’s going to explode. He can’t hold his breath for much longer, and the water is weighing on him like cement. He’s tired, so tired. He should give up, now. Just let himself drift to the bottom of the pool and never get back up again. There’s no hope for him, anyway. _

 

_ Eyes bleary, he looks up through the water, and sees his father’s distorted face through the ripples. He’s grinning, so sharp it looks like he’s got fangs. There are no wolves in California- no wolves except for one. And what a ruthless animal he is. Chase is too weak to fight him, has  _ **_always_ ** _ been too weak, and now he’s going to die for it. He’s going to- _

Chase wakes up soaked in sweat and gasping for air. He tries to sit up, but it’s difficult in the hammock- and then suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder helping him steady himself. Everything is still muddled and unclear, and he’s terrified, so terrified, so when he looks up at them the first thing that comes out of his mouth is a whispered, “Please don’t hurt me.”

 

“Of course not, sweetheart, never,” they say, reaching to ever so gently run their knuckles along his cheekbone. “Never.” 

 

Chase blinks a few times, clearing some of the fogginess from his mind. He meets their eyes, deep brown and full of worry, and, oh, shit, Gert. She is  _ not _ supposed to see him like this, whimpering and crying like a weak little kid. She’s not supposed to see him fragile. “Uh, h-hi.”

 

“Hey, bud. Nightmare, huh?” He swallows drily, not wanting to admit it. “Chase?”

 

“I’m-I’m fine. It was just- it was just a bad dream.”

 

Her brows crease, and Chase starts to feel sick to his stomach. She is  _ not _ supposed to see him like this. “Do you need me to get you something?”

 

“I told you, I’m fine.” Gert raises one very disbelieving eyebrow. “I promise, okay?”

 

“Liar.” She steps away from the hammock, making her way over to her car. Good, she’s leaving him alone- oh, nope, she’s not. After rummaging in the front cabin, Gert returns, triumphantly holding up...a chocolate bar? “Here, eat this.”

 

Chase frowns, but sits up, anyway, shifting to hang his legs over the edge of the hammock. Gert hoists herself up next to him, handing him the chocolate bar and saying, “Did you know I used to get night terrors as a kid?”

 

“Oh?” He asks, unwrapping the foil and breaking off a block of chocolate.

 

“Yep. It sucked, like, big time. But once I woke up, my- my dad would be there, holding out a piece of chocolate and telling me everything would be okay. I don’t know if it’s a Pavlovian response thing, or if it really does help, but either way, chocolate always makes me feel better after a nightmare.”

 

Chase nods and breaks off another piece, but doesn’t respond. He doesn’t really know what to say right now. He’s halfway to bursting into tears again and halfway to feeling incredibly guilty for bothering her with his daddy issues. God, he’s selfish. With everything that’s happening, she shouldn’t have to worry about this, too. 

 

Gert nudges his shoulder with hers. “You wanna talk about it?”

 

He shakes his head. “Not really. It’s just- it was more of a memory, than a bad dream. Just- just something shitty that happened to me as a kid.”

 

Her brows crease. “What was it?”

 

Chase doesn’t want to tell her. He wants to keep her away from all of this, all this bullshit trauma of his. She shouldn’t have to worry about him. But there’s something in her face that makes him want to tell her the truth. “I drowned. Or, almost drowned, I guess. I was eleven.”

 

Gert’s expression turns sympathetic and pitying, which, yeah, is the exact thing he knew would happen and literally the last thing he wanted. Great. She reaches for his hand, but thinks better of it, gently wrapping her fingers around his forearm instead. “How’d it happen?”

 

He ignores the question, instead looking away from her and asking, “Have you ever heard of voluntary apnea?”

 

Gert shakes her head, and he continues. “When you’re drowning, you don’t actually inhale until right before you black out. That’s the- that’s the term; voluntary apnea. No matter how much you’re panicking, there’s that instinct not to let the water in, right up until you feel like your head is going to explode. And that’s when you stop caring. That’s when it stops hurting, because  _ everything _ stops hurting.”

 

Voice hollow, Gert says, “You could’ve died.”

 

“I  _ should’ve  _ died.” She makes an affronted noise, and he holds out a hand. “Not in a self-deprecating way, that’s not what I meant. But logically, I should’ve died in that pool. The- I was past the rescue window, and he was just  _ watching,  _ not doing  _ shit.  _ He said it was shock, but who knows. The only reason I didn’t die that night was my mom. She jumped in and dragged me out, used the stuff she’d learned at sailing class to get me to breath again. I- I have that dream all the time, but I always wake up when the water enters my lungs.”

 

Gert’s expression turns haunted. In a quiet voice, she asks, “Chase, who’s ‘he’?”

 

He swallows drily. “Who do you think?”

 

Gert looks down at the floor, silent. Her hand slides down his arm to tangle their fingers together, squeezing tight. “So, the night everything went to shit and he pushed you through the wall...that wasn’t the first time, huh?”

 

Chase thinks back to what he told her that night, that what happened was a fluke, that his father was sick, that he wasn’t in control. He’d been lying through his teeth, all so she wouldn’t think less of him. He wonders what that Chase would say to him if he knew what he’s telling her now. “Not by a long shot.”

 

Gert’s mouth twists up, and he grip on his hand tightens. “He hit you?”

 

Chase nods, and Gert swallows audibly. “Okay. I’m going to kill him.”

 

He huffs a laugh, nudging her shoulder with his own. “Defending my honour, huh?”

 

“Don’t do that, don’t make this a joke.” She meets his eyes, dead serious. “No parent should ever treat their child that way. You should never have had to deal with that.”

 

The words drain all humour from him. He feels younger, somehow, like the little kid who’s been waiting for someone, anyone to say that to him even once, for all these years has risen to the surface once again. “No one’s ever told me that before.”

 

“They should have.” 

 

Chase swallows. “You don’t- you’re not disappointed in me?”

 

_ “What?” _ Gert asks, seeming almost offended. “Why would I ever be disappointed in you for something that wasn’t even your fault?”

 

He shrugs, a small, miserable thing. “I dunno. I mean, I wasn’t- he wanted me to be better. That’s why he did it. So I could be better-“

 

_ “No. _ Chase,  _ no. _ He hurt you because you were someone he had power over, because you couldn’t fight back. He did it to make himself feel like he was strong and better than everyone else, when really all he is is a disgusting  _ monster _ . He’s the dirt under your boots, Chase.” Huh.  _ Huh.  _

 

Chase gives her a small smile. “Thank you.”

 

“Anytime, ba-uuud,” she says, twisting the word mid-saying it. Of course, he knows what she was originally going to call him, so it’s a useless attempt. “Anytime.”

 

He nods, feeling better- until he thinks of something that very much so needs to be said right now, before it’s too late. Better do it before he psychs himself out. “Y’know, the night I left…”

 

Gert winces. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

 

“No, no, I need to-“ he takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “I need to say this.”

 

Gert bites her lip, but gives him the go-ahead. Chase swallows drily, then says, “When I left, they gave me everything I thought I wanted. They said I’d be the hero. But it didn’t feel like being the hero, it felt like I’d made a horrible, horrible mistake. I regretted it the moment I walked out the door, but I couldn’t- I couldn’t go back. What I’d done was irreversible, and he was waiting on me, and I was just so  _ worried. _ He said he was dying, and that he wanted me there- wanted  _ me, _ just me. I thought I was making the right choice, I thought- I thought that if I went back to him, he’d love me. I thought if I went back, and he  _ saw  _ me, saw me for who I am, I’d finally be enough for him. It didn’t work out, of course, but- I thought he wanted me. I thought…”

 

He trails off, looking down at the ground. Gert reaches over, placing her hand on his jaw and turning his face toward her. He meets her eyes, surprised. Still cupping his jaw, Gert says, “You were always enough for us, for me. And I always, always wanted you. We all did. Because that’s what being a family  _ is. _ It’s not belittlement or abuse, it’s  _ love. _ The unconditional kind.”

 

Chase starts to tear up. To distract from his dumb, embarrassing, emotions, he teases, “You love me, huh?”

 

Gert blushes, and her hand falls away from his face. Shit. “Not- not like that. But I care about you, even when you make stupid, shitty decisions, and even when I’m extremely pissed at you. I’ve got your back, Chase. Same way we’ve all got each other’s backs, same way I’d  _ hope  _ that you have mine.”

 

Involuntarily, a tear slips down his cheek. He wipes it away as quick as he can manage, but Gert still notices. She holds out her arms, saying softly, “Want a hug?”

 

Chase nods, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face into her shoulder. Gert holds him close as he starts to cry, rubbing her hand up and down his back. 

 

Chase is not a crier. He definitively is not a person who cries, ever. To cry is to be weak, and he’s always tried so hard to be as tough as he possibly could. He had to be. But being held by Gert is like getting wrapped in a nice warm security blanket. With her, he can be vulnerable. With her, he can be honest. Well, maybe not totally honest. There’s still that  _ I’m hopelessly in love with you _ thing. But other than that, around her, he’s practically Honest Abe.

 

Eventually, they lie back on the hammock, Chase curling up against her and pressing his face into her shoulder. Gert keeps rubbing her hand up and down his back, and he’s going to fall asleep soon, he’s sure of it. 

 

Softly, Gert starts to sing, a welcome lullaby after a night like this.  _ “Let's go to sleep, there is a dream we can share. Just you and me, in a floating sea in the air. What's left below? We'll never know…” _ __   
  


~~~~~

 

Chase wakes up the next morning with a smile on his face and the love of his life in his arms. It’s a surprise, seeing as Gert usually leaves for her run super early, but it’s certainly a welcome one. 

 

Gert shifts in his arms, giving him a sleepy grin. “Mornin’.”

 

God, he wants to kiss her so bad. Wants to spend the entire day here with her, no matter how cramped it might end up being. He knows he can’t, and that they won’t, but it’s fun to dream about. He reaches out, running a hand over her soft, deeply purple hair. “Good morning.”

 

He’s about to say something else-  _ anything  _ else, when someone tumbles through the doorway like a wrecking ball.

 

They both sit up, a little frantic as they turn to find Molly leaning against the doorway, still in her pyjamas. Out of breath, she exclaims, “You guys gotta help me; Alex is having a seizure, and I don’t know what to do!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Never Let You Sweep Me Off My Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> decisions, dance rehearsals, and...possession?

Until today, Chase had not realized that he perhaps has a thing for competency. Specifically competency in Gert Yorkes, who, when confronted with a medical emergency, whipped out that First Aid training and handled the situation promptly and with style. It’s very, very attractive to see her all bossy and smart- well, bossy and smart multiplied by 2. He’s not going to say this out loud, though, because Gert would definitely chew him out for it. Another time, though. Right now, she’s a little busy.

 

Alex is shivering on the floor, eyes hollow and curled up into a ball. He stopped violently flailing only moments ago, but that doesn’t mean everything is all well and good. Gert is running her hand up and down his side, murmuring encouragements in a calming tone. Chase is trying to help, but, he’s not going to lie, this is kind of terrifying. Never mind that Gert is kind of pissed at him right now. He was just trying to give some advice based on what he knew about seizures, but apparently putting something in Alex’s mouth is,  _ ‘the worst idea ever, Chase. Don’t you know that can seriously damage his teeth or get your own hand bitten off?’ _

 

He did not, in fact, know this. First Aid through osmosis and self-application only goes so far, he supposes. 

 

“Hey, I’m back,” Molly says, holding up a blanket in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “How is he?”

 

Gert’s mouth twists. “Well, he’s not jerking around anymore, so that’s good, at least.”

 

Chase snorts unintentionally at the word choice. Under his breath, he mutters, “Jerking.”

 

Gert hears it, turning on him with a disapproving look. “Really? Now?”

 

“What? It’s funny!”

 

Gert rolls her eyes. “You’re such a-”

 

“Guys?” Alex’s hoarse voice asks. All three look down at his terrified face, eyes wide and bloodshot. “What just happened?”

 

“You don’t remember?” Molly asks worriedly, crouching down. “How do you not remember?”

 

Alex swallows as he shifts, propping himself onto his elbows. “I think we’ve already established that my memory has been less than great lately.”

 

“Actually,” Gert says, handing Alex the bottle of water, “disorientation and even memory loss can be common after a seizure. You’re in the clear for your freaky amnesia sitch, at least for now.”

 

“Oh. Who, um, told you about that?” Alex sits up properly and tries to unscrew the bottle, fails, tries again, fails. Chase takes the bottle from him, unscrews the top, and hands it back. Alex’s eye twitches, but he doesn’t say anything, just takes a sip from the now opened bottle in silence. 

 

“News travels fast around here, you know that as well as I do.” Gert takes the blanket from Molly and wraps it around Alex’s shoulders like he’s a little kid. “There, that’s better. Do you know what triggered it?”

 

Alex shakes his head, reaching up to rub at his eyes. It only just now occurs to Chase that he’s not wearing his glasses. Weird. “No, I don’t. I was, um, I was drinking last night? So.”

 

Chase’s eyes go wide. “You had  _ alcohol  _ and you  _ didn’t share?” _

 

Gert elbows him. “One, focus, two, no offense, but I literally would not have let you drink last night. Like,  _ no.” _

 

As per usual, Gert is right. “True.”

 

Molly looks between the two of them, suspicious. “What happened last night?”

 

Oh, he does  _ not  _ want to answer this question. Luckily, Gert is quicker than he is. “Oh, we were just talking about some personal stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

 

For once, Gert actually succeeds at lying. Molly nods, then starts helping Alex shift to a more comfortable position, and Chase sighs in relief. Gert looks over, and, not breaking eye contact, inches her hand close enough to his to hook their pinkies together. It’s silent, but her eyes say,  _ I’ve got you. _

 

God, he’s so fucking in love with her. 

 

A little while later, Gert decides to that Alex needs to eat something, and drags Chase off to help her get him something decently nutritious. 

 

As they put together some lackluster peanut butter sandwiches, Gert clears her throat. “Hey, um, is it just me that’s been worried about Alex, lately? I mean, a  _ seizure... _ there’s got to be something going on, right?”

 

“Oh, no, it’s totally not just you. Dude’s been freaky as hell, lately. Like, yes, worrisome, for sure, but  _ freaky  _ freaky.” The other day, Alex asked him how a  _ cell phone _ worked.  _ Alex. _ The guy who hacked PRIDE didn’t know how to place a call.

 

“Yeah, that too. He really hasn’t been himself, lately.” She squares her shoulders, like she’s steeling herself for something. “Y’know, I’m kind of getting tired of all this sitting around. Like, I get that there’s been a lot of shit happening, but it feels like we’re not doing anything but gluing broken vases back together.”

 

“Are we the vases? I feel like we’re the vases in this analogy.” Chase wonders what type of vase he would be. Ceramic? Glass? Oh wait, no, definitely a clay one without the little holes in the bottom- since he tends to not let anything out, and all. His emotions just collect in him and he’ll hold all of them right there and then he’ll die.

 

“We are. And, like- okay, I know going on a mission or whatever probably wouldn’t help Alex, but maybe if we just figured out a plan…”

 

She’s wearing her thinking face, and as much as Chase loves hearing the gears turn, they did promise to make sandwiches. “Hey, we’ll all figure it out together, okay? But first, food.”

 

“Shit, you’re right.”  _ Well, it’s been a long time since you’ve said  _ **_that_ ** _ to me. _ Gert seems to be thinking the same thing, crossing her arms uncomfortably. “Um, by the way, I’m sorry for what I said, earlier, about the ‘putting something in his mouth’ thing. Not everybody knows that kind of information, and it was rude of me.”

 

“No, don’t apologize. If anything,  _ I’m  _ sorry for stressing you out even more while you were trying to handle the situation.”

 

Gert frowns. “Don’t say sorry when I’m trying to say sorry, it’s confusing.”

 

“Sorry- wait.” 

 

Gert snorts, and the moment they make eye contact, they both burst into giggles. It’s a light kind of laughter, the sort that makes everything feel better. Not to mention that this is the first time he’s truly made Gert laugh in ages, which is definitely an ego boost. 

 

By the time they’ve both calmed down, Gert is leaning on him a little for support, and the familiarity of their position makes his heart ache. He wishes they could go back to this morning, fast asleep in her arms. He wishes they could spend all day like that. 

 

But they can’t, and they both know it. Gert pulls away from him, giving him a small, secret kind of smile. “Well, anyway.”

 

“Yeah,” he says, grinning back, “Anyway.”

 

**__________**

 

“What are you doing?” Molly asks her sister when she walks into her bedroom. Gert has wheeled a chalkboard from...somewhere in their labyrinth of a home into her room, and is all but attacking it with her chicken scratch handwriting. It’s half full already, though she can’t have been doing this for long. They only finished breakfast an hour and a half ago. 

 

“Trying to come up with a ‘what’s next’ plan,” Gert says, not turning around. She runs a hand through her hair, making it even messier than it was before. It’s still got that rich purple colour to it, though, “As you might be able to guess, it’s not going well.”

 

Molly nods. “Yeah, I got that. Are you feeling okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Gert says, then turns around, chalk still in hand. She’s wearing a pair of dark pink leggings and what is for sure Chase’s henley, so Molly  _ knows  _ that something is up. For one, Gert is very particular about clothes- even if it’s a mess of different colours and fashion eras, it has to be a  _ coordinated  _ mess. And for two, she never wears Chase’s clothes in the daytime, even though it’s half her closet. What Chase didn’t take when he left, Gert stole to use as pyjamas. The fact that she’s wearing his shirt either means she’s frazzled all to hell...or something happened between her and Chase. Considering how she found them this morning, the second seems more likely.

 

“So,” Molly starts, “wanna fill me in on why you and Chase were all cuddled up together this morning?”

 

Gert crosses her arms uncomfortably. “Not really?”

 

“Come on, I wanna know! Did you guys get back together?” She hopes so. Seeing them sulk is so annoying. 

 

Gert makes a face, offended that Molly would even say that, apparently. “Oh my God, no. I meant what I said when I told you we were talking about personal stuff.”

 

“Yeah, but usually, when  _ I’m _ talking about personal stuff with someone, I don’t end up sleeping in the same bed as them. Come on, just admit that you guys are better together-“

 

_ “No, _ Molly. You don’t- you don’t  _ get it,  _ okay?” Oh, no, she’s upset, now. Oops. 

 

Well, as long as she’s digging this hole, might as well make it deeper. “You’re right, I really don’t. I mean, you obviously care about him.”

 

Gert swallows, then softly says, “Yeah, I do.”

 

“So why don’t you just...get back together?” 

 

She shakes her head, looking down. “Because it’s not that easy, Molls. Yes, I care about him. Yes, I will be there for him, if he needs me. But the thing is, Molly- would he do the same for me?”

 

Her brows crease. “Of  _ course  _ he would-“

 

“But you don’t know that. And I don’t either.” Gert swallows, then seems to come to some sort of realization. “I think what it comes down to, Molly, is that...I don’t trust him anymore. I care about him, but I just don’t trust him. As much as I want to believe that he wouldn’t ever leave me-  _ us- _ again, there’s times when I look at his face and all I can hear is what he said that night. That he- that he  _ grew out _ of us. Of  _ me.  _ Like I was an old t-shirt or childhood cartoon.” Voice soft and a little teary, Gert says, “I can’t let that happen again.”

 

Even though this isn’t even her relationship, Molly still feels sick to her stomach. Strangely, it feels like being sat down at the supper table and being told that Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce. 

 

She swallows. “So you guys are  _ never  _ getting back together?”

 

“I didn’t say that.”  _ Thank God.  _ Molly knows that it’s probably stupid to assume that they’d stop being there for her if they were officially broken up, not to mention selfish, but she’s scared of losing her support system, okay? She’s already lost so many people, she can’t lose them, too. “I just...I can’t let myself get hurt by him, not again. So it’s gonna stay platonic, I guess, until he regains my trust or we both...move on. I dunno, whatever happens first. Can we stop talking about this now?”

 

Molly nods. “Sure. Do you need help? With the planning thing?”

 

Gert gives her a small smile, glad for the subject change. “I’d love some.”

 

Helping, as it turns out, just means calling out random ideas every now and then while she plays with Old Lace. Eventually, Molly grabs Gert’s MP3 player of mysterious origin and starts fucking around with it, scrolling through and picking a song to blare.

 

 _“Been there, done that, messed around_ _  
__I'm having fun, don't put me down_ _  
___I'll never let you sweep me off my feet!

_ I won't let you in again,  _

_ the messages I've tried to send,  _

_ my information's just not going in!” _

 

Gert laughs at her song choice, bopping her head to the music as she writes something down on the chalkboard. The song continues, and by the chorus, they’re both jumping around and belting the lyrics.

 

_ “This time, baby, I'll be  _

_ Bulletproof!  _

_ This time, baby, I'll be  _

_ Bulletproof!” _

 

Laughing, Molly grabs her sister and tries to get her to do some dance moves that don’t look like a cat flailing in deep water. It doesn’t really work- Gert can’t dance to save her life. It’s less about skill and more about not caring; she could probably be great at it if she tried, same with most things. 

 

 _“I won't let you turn around_ _  
__And tell me now I'm much too proud_ _  
__All you do is fill me up with doubt_ _  
__This time, baby, I'll be_ _  
___Bulletproof!

 _This time, baby, I'll be_ _  
__Bulletproof!_

 _This time, baby, I'll be_ _  
__Bulletproof!_

 _This time, baby, I'll be_ _  
__Bulletproof!”_

 

By the time the song ends, they’re both giggling, spinning around the room in a bastardized waltz (Gert is leading, even though Molly is taller). She leans against her sister as the next song plays, a floaty classical piece. For some reason, it feels like déjà vu. She can’t place why, though-  _ wait.  _

 

Molly looks up at her sister with wide eyes, pulling away from her but not letting go of her hands. “Gert, I’ve just had an idea.”

 

Gert blinks, caught off guard. “Wanna share with the class?”

 

She makes her way over to the chalkboard, taking an eraser and swiping at it widely until she’s got enough free space. In large letters and underlined three times in a row, she writes down her idea. 

 

Gert gasps. “Oh my God, the Kings and Queens Ball That PRIDE hosts every year. Holy shit, Molly.”

 

The Kings and Queens Ball has always been one of PRIDE’s most high profile events. If you got invited, it meant that you were A) part of the Elite, and B) had a chance to make first bid on whatever new invention or initiative PRIDE would showcase that year. Sure, the Ball was for ‘charity’, but it was also so PRIDE could get in some marketing without having to go through the arduous process of commercials or putting their new products up on billboards. Celebrities, CEOs, and politicians alike all show up to the venue dressed in their best attempt at fantasy wear, from princesses to pirates to pixies. Because of the guest’s tendency to get raging drunk and party the whole night through, Molly, along with all her friends, has never been allowed to go. She used to dream of being old enough to attend, to dance the night away and pretend she’s a fairytale hero for just one night.

 

But now, she just might get the chance. 

 

_ “Right?!  _ This is perfect! And every year they show off one of NEMO’s swanky new inventions, and I’d put  _ money  _ on them taking the opportunity to unveil the brain scrambler.” 

 

Gert’s jaw drops. “You’re a genius, you know that?”

 

Molly nudges her sister cheekily. “Wonder who I get it from?”

 

Blushing a little, Gert nudges her back. “Nah,” she says, in a proud kind of voice, “that’s all you.”

 

**__________**

 

“Hey,” Nico says as she steps into Alex’s little bedroom alcove, “got a minute?”

 

Alex looks up from his computer, then looks right back down at the screen upon seeing who it is. “I guess so. Do you need anything?”

 

“No,” Nico says, moving to sit down next to him on the bed, “but I was wondering if  _ you  _ needed anything. Chase told me about what happened this morning, when you had a... seizure.”

 

Alex makes a face, eyes still on the screen. “He shouldn’t have told you. It’s not a big deal.”

 

Her brows crease. How is a fucking  _ seizure  _ not a big deal? He’s been acting so odd, lately. Callous, quiet, just all around things Nico has never known her friend to be. “Alex, yes it is. This stuff- with the amnesia, the lost time, and now  _ seizures?  _ It’s serious. There’s something going on with you.”

 

Alex swallows. He still hasn’t looked up. “It was  _ one  _ seizure, for your information. Anyway, I’m busy right now. We can talk about this later.”

 

“No, we can’t.” She reaches over and snaps the laptop shut, and Alex finally looks up at her with an offended squawk. Oh, wow, he’s showing emotion, now? First time in a fucking while! “If there is something wrong, and you  _ know _ there’s something wrong, you need to tell me.” Alex’s mouth stays shut, and she sighs. “Fine. I didn’t want to play this card, but you’re forcing my hand, so let me just make one thing clear- if whatever it is that you’re hiding ends up putting any one of us in danger, you’re gonna be in  _ deep _ shit. Okay?”

 

Alex gulps. “Sure.”

 

“Good. Now, what is it that you’re working on?”

 

He opens the laptop back up, starting to type again. “Gertrude asked me to look some stuff up for her, and when Gertrude asks you to do something, it’s kind of hard to say no.”

 

“Oh, true.” She’s not gonna question it for now, but ‘Gertrude’? She’s pretty sure Gert hasn’t heard him call her that to her face, because Alex would probably be pretty gruesomely sans-genitalia by now if he had. Nico cranes her neck over Alex’s shoulder, trying to see the screen, but largely failing. “What is it that she told you to look into?”

“You’ll see. She said she wanted to talk you about it today, so stay vigilant, I suppose.”

 

Nico snorts. “‘Constant vigilance’, huh?”

 

Alex turns to her and cocks his head, confused. “What?”

 

Her brows crease. “Y’know...like from Harry Potter? Mad-Eye Moody?” Alex shakes his head. “Al, you’ve been obsessed with anything Harry Potter since we were little, are you okay?”

 

Alex’s brows are creased, but he nods anyway, saying “No, yeah, I remember now. For sure. Sorry, just feeling frazzled, I guess.”

 

Nico raises an eyebrow, unconvinced but not sure how to ask if he’s lying without sounding like a dick. “Oookay. Well-“

 

“Al, did you find the- oh, heyyy, Niiiico,” Gert says awkwardly as she she steps into the alcove and sees her there. “What are you, um, doing here?”

 

Nico huffs a laugh, amused by how nervous she seems.  _ What  _ is she cooking up? “I could ask you the same thing. Alex said you’re coming up with something, wanna share with the class?”

 

“Ummm,” Gert says, rocking back on her heels. “So. I was kinda hoping I’d have more time to put a plan together, but my idea is- wait, Alex, did you look it up?”

 

“Yep,” he says, turning the screen towards her. Nico is finally able to see what he’d been looking at. It’s PRIDE’s website, open to a page advertising...the Kings and Queens Ball. In the dead centre of the screen is an image of the brain scrambler her parents once used against them, against  _ her,  _ displayed like a fancy new invention and not a weapon of mass destruction. “You were right. They  _ are  _ unveiling it there.”

 

Gert steps towards them and crouches down, grinning at what she sees on the screen. She turns to Nico and, with a confident smirk, asks, “You ready to hear my plan, now?”

 

**__________**

 

“It’s a horrible idea! You’ll get us all killed!”

 

Karolina, along with the rest of the group, rolls her eyes at Alex’s fake dramatics. He grins, a sly, teasing thing from where he’s laid back on the couch. “What? Isn’t that what you wanted to hear? Now you get to argue why you’re right, don’t you?”

 

Gert snorts. “You’re the worst. And I won’t get us all killed, for the record. As long as everything goes to plan, we’ll come out of this without a scratch.”

 

“Speaking of the plan,” Karolina asks, “go over it one more time?”

 

She asks only because seeing Chase’s expression throughout is quite possibly the funniest thing in the world, and, to be honest, she needs a good laugh. Nothing like a jealous ex-boyfriend to cure the post Elliot’s departure blues- well, so long as it’s not  _ her  _ ex-boyfriend. Although, to be fair, the last ‘boyfriend’ Karolina had was Cayden Squires in the fifth grade. Unless you want to count the absolutely fucking cursed week where she and Chase were a ‘thing’. Personally, she really, really doesn’t.

 

Gert groans a little, then says, “Well, first, we sneak in through the backdoor- the way we used to when we were kids to watch the dance.” Molly huffs at this, since she was always excluded from this little yearly adventure. Karolina has fond memories of charming the hotel employees into letting her and her friends in, even though they had all ridden their bikes there and were usually wearing pyjamas. The babysitter, who disliked having to take care of all seven of them, anyways, was always easy to trick. Amy used to lead the charge on these baby missions of theirs, though, so Karolina doesn’t really remember how it is that they tricked their caretaker into letting them leave. 

 

Gert gives her sister a halfhearted glare, then continues, “Once we get in, someone flirts with one of the security guards to get their keycard and directions to where the brain scrambler is being kept. That someone will apparently be me, since Karrie opted out and Nico can’t flirt.” Nico makes an offended noise, but Gert just rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I’ll flirt with them, it’ll be fine, I’ll manage.”

 

And there’s the reaction from Chase that Karolina finds so funny. Nostrils flaring, eyebrows furrowed- he looks like a jealous dragon.

 

“We wear masks to stay anonymous, and split up so no one gets suspicious- we are kind of a big group. Stay in pairs or groups of three, have a good time, then Chase and Molly sneak off and find the brain scrambler before they wheel it out for all the snobs to ooh and ahh at it. Ideally, we take it with us, but if push comes to shove Molly drops it on the ground and  _ stomps.” _

 

“Okay, not that I don’t love this plan,” Chase says cautiously, a common tone of voice for him, lately, “but what if our parents show up? What then?”

 

Gert squares her shoulders. “Well, hopefully, we’d avoid them and get out. I mean, they used to  _ hate  _ this event, that’s why none of us ever really went- that, and the fear of getting trampled by drunken partygoers. But, if it really comes down to it...if we have the brain scrambler, we turn it on them. If we don’t, we fight.”

 

Everyone sobers up at the thought, Karolina included. Throughout this whole conversation, she’d been painting Nico’s nails bright green, but now, she puts the bottle down. She really doesn’t like fighting, especially since she’s usually on the offense team. To be honest, she’s a little envious of Gert’s usual role as the driver. No need to throw down when you’re behind the wheel, no need to hurt people when your biggest worry is if the car will start. 

 

But she’s got to be hopeful, as per usual. Maybe they really will get out of this without a scratch. 

 

So she meets Gert’s eyes, and asks, “When Nico magics up the outfits, can I have fairy wings?”

 

**__________**

 

Oh, Gert didn’t think this through. 

 

When her and Molly came up with this, she thought the hardest part would be acquiring the brain scrambler. But, no. The hardest part has come before the party has even started- a whole  _ day _ before.

 

They’re coming up with outfits, and Nico has informed her that she has to wear a  _ dress.  _ And a  _ fancy  _ dress. 

 

Gert is not a dress person. She rarely wears them, even to events- she much prefers a good jumpsuit or a nice pair of culottes. In fact, the only times she’s worn a dress in recent memory were to impress a boy, and we all know how that worked out.

 

Speaking of said boy, he’s looking at her weird.  _ Staring _ is the better word. More in an appreciative way than anything, like he can’t get enough of her. He meets her eyes almost accidentally, and his entire face turns red.

 

Gert looks away. 

 

She meant it, when she said things need to stay platonic. She genuinely doesn’t think she can handle anything romantic with him- she’s barely managing friendship. Maybe it’ll change, maybe it won’t, but for now, Gert Yorkes and Chase Stein are friends, and  _ only  _ friends.

 

Once everyone- besides Gert, because she couldn’t come up with  _ anything-  _ has decided/sketched a baseline for what they want to wear, because  _ ‘creative freedom is important, Nico’, _ they all stand in a line in front of their staff-wielding friend. 

 

“Is everyone ready?” Nico asks, suddenly apprehensive. “I can’t take it back, y’know. What the staff puts on you is what you wear when we leave tomorrow.”

 

Everyone nods, and Nico swallows, holding out the staff and saying,  **_“You shall go to the ball!”_ **

 

And then suddenly, luminescent glitter starts to swirl around each one of them, sticking to their skin and gliding down their clothes like microscopic pixies. Gert hears her sister giggle beside her, and on her other side, Karolina gives a great big belly laugh, uncharacteristically exuberant. Well, at least  _ they’re _ having fun. 

 

Once the sparkles are out of her eyes, Gert looks around, eager to see what the others are wearing. Her eyes land on Chase first, which is probably a mistake, because now, she’s kind of blushing. He looks handsome as a fairytale prince, with a brocade vest, waistcoat, and simple leather mask. Like if Mr. Darcy were somehow even more gorgeous. Oddly, though, he looks positively flabbergasted. Jaw dropped and everything.

 

When she looks around again, she finds the same expression on everyone else’s faces. And they’re all staring at  _ her. _

 

“Oh my God, what-“ Gert looks over at the nearby mirror, and… “Oh. Wow, Nico, you really outdid yourself.”

 

The ballgown is a soft, sunset reddish-pink, the type that would make a sailor turn the boat back around if he saw it in the morning. It’s sleeveless, with small, delicate fauna of the same shade stitched into the bodice and dripping down the full, flowing skirt like hanging vines. The pointed neckline is deep but not too deep, enough to show a little cleavage but not enough to make her feel nervous about it. From the shoulders and, as she sees when she turns around, along the hem of deep back of the dress, flows a gossamer, twirling thing that can only be called a cape. It’s almost lost in the fabric of the dress, soft and tulle and flouncing lazily towards the bottom. Though she knows that even the concept of fairytale princesses, sitting up in their towers waiting to be saved and swooning over less than average men, is anti-feminist and patriarchal, is it so bad to say that she feels like one? Even if the mask she’s wearing, lacy and feminine despite it being made from what is clearly real gold, is kind of prissy for her taste.

 

“Jesus fuck, I look-“

 

“Like a princess,” Xavin says, stars in their eyes.  _ They’re  _ wearing a perfectly normal deep purple suit, with a wickedly cool octopus mask. “Like a  _ fairytale.” _

 

Gert scoffs. “Okay, sure. I was gonna go with a cupcake, but that works, too.”

 

“You look like fruit punch, but in a good way,” Karolina blurts. Immediately, her face turns bright red. “Um, oops.”

 

“Always with so much tact, Dean,” Alex says slyly, and Karolina swats at him, face still bright red.

 

Gert wiggles her toes nervously under everyone’s adoring stares, and finds that it feels unexpectedly cold to do so. She lifts up her skirts in confusion and looks down- only to find bare feet. “Uhh…”

 

“Oh, shit,” Nico says, “I forgot the shoes. Let me just-“

 

“No! No, it’s fine!” Gert says, holding out a hand. “No need to waste your magic. I have a pair that will work.”

 

Nico narrows her eyes. “Are they boots?”

 

“No,” Gert lies. “They’re good, I promise. Now, let’s all go change out, okay? I’m hungry.”

 

They all agree, and everyone heads out to do their own thing until supper. As she slips out of the dress in her bedroom, she drapes it over the armchair and just stares at it for awhile, thinking of their plan,  _ her _ plan. 

 

Gert wishes with everything in her that they don’t fail.

 

**__________**

 

Xavin has never been a terrific dancer.

 

On their home planet, dancing was never a large part of, well, any of their traditions, and while they had tried to learn every now and again, they’d never gotten far with it. And then they were a stowaway for a few millennia, and oddly enough, dancing isn’t really on the agenda when you’re hiding in the hull of a spaceship.

 

But Chase, who Xavin still isn’t 100% sure they trust, has taken it upon himself to teach the lot of them how to waltz, and Xavin is going to try their hardest to succeed.

 

“Okay, so we’re gonna do partners, obviously, you can’t waltz without a partner.” It seems that Chase is enjoying this whole  _ You Have To Listen To Me  _ thing, from the way he’s behaving like he’s a complete expert and not a teenage boy who took a few classes one semester with school. But, whatever. He’s not hurting anyone, other than Xavin’s patience level. They would like to actually learn something, you know, not just wait as Chase pauses between sentences to make googly eyes at Gert.

 

To be honest, they don’t understand Gert and Chase in the slightest. It’s clear- to them, anyway- that they’re meant to be (trust them. They happen to know quite a lot about soulmates), so why fight it? 

 

“Okayy, Nico and Karolina, you two together, then Alex and Molly, and of course Gert and m-”  
  
“Xavin!” Gert interjects, reaching over to latch onto their hand, as if this is something normal and not totally out of the blue. They give her a surprised look, and she sends a slightly panicked one back, like, _please help me._ Ah. “Gert and Xavin. Who are partners.”

 

Xavin nods once to back her up, squeezing her hand. She shoots them a grateful look, and Chase’s eyes flick between the two of them, seeming none too happy. He crosses her arms, saying gruffly, “Well, okay. I guess I’ll...watch. And give pointers. That- that works better, anyways. Um, places, everybody.”

 

It turns out, they all really needed this lesson- the only ones with any semblance of what they’re doing is Nico and surprisingly, Molly. Though, maybe they shouldn’t be surprised- she used to take dance lessons once upon a time, if they’re remembering right.

 

Gert catches them looking over at Molly- and Alex, her struggling partner, and huffs a laugh. “He’s pretty stiff.”

 

They snort in agreement. “He looks like one of those action figures he has in his bedroom. Iron Man sans armour.”

 

Gert snickers. “Like a wind up doll-”

 

“I  _ heard _ that,” Alex says as he and Molly pass by them, and they both burst into giggles.

 

This is fun, dancing with her. Neither of them are very talented, but that’s not what matters. All that counts- at least to them- is having a good time. Because isn’t that what dancing should be? Not some perfect, choreographed thing, but instead a way to show joy?

 

Weirdly enough, though, Chase, who’s standing at the front of the room and glaring at Xavin with the fire of a thousand suns, doesn’t seem to think the same. Odd, that.

 

**__________**

 

“Hello,” he says as he calls up his sister. “It’s me.”

 

_ “Brother!”  _ Says Tina Minoru’s voice on the other line. He has got to say, he really approves of this choice of host. According to her, the body gave up quickly, like it was glad for someone else to take the wheel. He envies his sister- this host was not so lenient.  _ “I have missed you. When will you come home?” _

 

“Soon, Sister. Do not worry.” He has things to carry out before he can leave this place. Namely, getting his other sister, the one Father loves so much, to accompany him. 

 

_ “But I  _ **_do_ ** _ worry. This would be much easier if you would tell us where you are.” _

 

He sighs. “Sister, I have told you before. The host will not allow me to do so. There seems to be some sort of firewall up whenever I open my mouth to say the words.”

 

**_And don’t you forget it!_ ** Says the annoying little boy in his head. It’s not enough that it is constantly trying to escape, it also manages to fit in annoying comments whenever it can.

 

On the other line, she sighs.  _ “Right, right. I had forgotten. That host of yours is quite the nuisance. I still don’t know why you chose him.” _

 

“Well,” he says, fiddling with the button of one of Alexander’s ugly patterned shirts, “he was largely forgotten by his so-called family, Sister. He was easiest to prey on, as all lonely humans are, even if it took much too long for him to give up control. Stubborn, he is.”

 

His sister giggles.  _ “Sounds like someone I know.” _

 

“Oh, don’t insult Father where he can hear you, dearest. You know what happened last time.”

 

She sobers up.  _ “You’re right. Now, why are you calling?” _

 

He grins slyly to himself. “Well, dear sister, I have news…”

  
  



	9. Touch Every Star In The Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> masquerade balls, conversations in grandiose hallways, and a good old fashioned burglary.

Karolina has never been a fan of parties. She likes the food, the dancing, the pretty dresses- but the other guests were the one thing she never got the hang of, and that seems to be the most important part. She’s never been good at smooth-talking, to the point where her mother would write down and make her memorize everything she needed to say when she did interviews about the Church of Gibborim.  _ You can’t muck everything up if you’ve rehearsed, _ is what she used to say, but Karolina would always end up blurting something awkward anyways.

 

She’s very, very glad that Gert decided to take it upon herself to flirt her way through finding out where the brain scrambler is being held. When she’d mentioned that part of the plan, Karolina had dreaded being picked- flirting with some second-rate security guard would  _ not  _ go well for her. But Gert said that she’d just do it herself, and that was that. Chase seemed mighty pissed about it, though, but he abstained from saying anything on the matter, and it’s not like Karolina would be the one to question it. Let them figure that one out by themselves.

 

Another instance of this abstaining is quite literally right now, at this very moment. Karolina is standing at the edge of the dancefloor, surveying the ballroom with a keen eye, and she can’t help but notice Chase watching Gert flirt with the security guard, who is, like, totally into her, by the way. Chase seems to notice this, too, from the sad- puppy-meets-angry-bulldog  look he’s sporting. For some reason, the guy she’s flirting with seems familiar. He’s on the younger side, a freshman in university at the most, with tousled brown hair and a dorky expression. She still can’t place him, though. Maybe he worked another event- that happens sometimes with PRIDE. 

 

Karolina debates going over to calm him down, but, before she can, she gets accosted by a posse of older women complimenting what she’s wearing. It’s hard to take the compliment, but at least she knows she deserves it. Nico really went all out to make her look like she had just stepped right out of a fairytale. Her dress is made of a shimmery, almost sheer fabric, with ruffles and a slit leg. The top part of it is more than a little slutty, but A) it’s not like she can’t pull it off, and B) there needed to be room for the fairy wings, which, yes, she managed to actually talk Nico into. They’re big and gorgeous and iridescent, staying strapped tight to her back by the mini-bodice that is fortunately near invisible in the folds of the dress. There’s a lot going on with this outfit, not to mention the silver sunburst crown atop her head or the shimmery makeup hiding her eyes, but she loves it. Like, looooooooooooves it. It’s just so  _ dramatic, _ especially with her hair down. She feels like that fairy queen from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but lesbian. 

 

Like that same fairy queen, whose name she can’t remember at the moment, Karolina watches over the crowd, trying to spot another one of her friends. She’s lost Gert, somehow, which probably means she’s either making out with the guard to make Chase jealous or has actually completed her part of the mission. Xavin is chatting with a group of old bitties, seeming to thoroughly enjoy the gossip, Nico and Alex are doing surveillance, which is sure to go well, and Molly is...oh. She’s...flirting? With another girl?

 

Wait, holy shit. Does this mean every girl in their group is into other girls? That’s so bitchin’, she’s so proud of them, like, as a unit. She can’t see the top half of Molly’s face right now- she’s wearing a  _ sick  _ helmet with RAM HORNS because she’s COOL- but the bottom half of her face is rosy red as she grins foolishly at the other girl. Molly is dressed  _ ‘like Elizabeth Swann in Pirates of the Caribbean 3, Nico’,  _ a sharp contrast to the girl she’s flirting with, who’s wearing what Gert might call a cupcake dress. She’s even wearing a tiara.

 

Karolina watches them flirt for a little while longer, passively wondering what that’s like, to flirt with a girl just to do it. Don’t get her wrong, she loves Nico, she adores being in a relationship. But it was all so fast, and there’s not much room for flirting and shy glances at the end of the world. She wouldn’t give it up for anything, though. She traded the cutesy shit for an all-encompassing type of love, and that’s alright with her. 

 

“Hey,” Gert says as she comes up to her side, and Karolina startles. Even though she’s wearing the most princess dress to ever be a princess dress, she still manages to move quietly. “What are we looking at?”

 

“Molly ‘Chad’ Hernandez in action. How long do you think it’ll take for her to get that girl’s number?”

 

Gert gets a soft, surprised look on her face. “Molly never...um, I dunno, five minutes?”

 

Karolina’s brows crease, but she doesn’t question Gert’s surprise- it doesn’t seem like her business. She’s not usually one for keeping her mouth shut, but when it comes to sexuality, she’s under lock and key. “I say three.”

 

Molly does it in four. She walks away from the girl with a confident swagger, phone number scrawled onto a piece of scrap paper in hand. As soon as she’s out of the girl’s field of view, though, Molly does the most adorable fist pump Karolina has ever seen. Herself and Gert giggle, and Molly looks over at the noise, eyes wide as saucers. 

 

Seeming like she’s bracing herself for something, Molly walks over to them, posture stick-straight (ha) and smile clenched. “Um, hey, guys.”

 

“Hey, ladykiller,” Gert teases, and Molly relaxes a little. “Since when are you so good with the girls, huh?”

 

Blushing, Molly shrugs. “I dunno. I’m a natural, I guess.”

 

“Well, could you teach me?” Karolina asks. “I wanna make Nico swoon the way you did with that girl.”

 

Molly scoffs, looking secretly pleased. “She didn’t swoon.”

 

“She so did,” Gert argues, bopping her sister on the shoulder. Turning to Karolina, she says, “And as if you need to do anything to make Nico swoon. You sneeze and she writes poetry about it.”

 

Now, it’s Karolina’s turn to blush. “You think?”

 

Both Gert and Molly look at her all judgy, like,  _ are you serious? _ With their difference in outfits, it feels like being teased by Team Rocket in that one party episode of the old Pokemon cartoon. Wait, does that make Old Lace Meowth?

 

“Fine, fine, whatever. Anyway, Gert, did you get the thingy?”

 

Gert nods, handing both a slip of paper with directions and an employee identification card to Molly. “Yep. Amazing what a little flirting can do. And I knew him, anyway- well, sorta. I’ll tell you later. But if you wouldn’t mind, Karrie...”

 

Gert and Molly both go quiet for a moment, sneaking looks at each other, and Karolina realizes her meaning only a few moments  _ after  _ it gets awkward. “Oh! Oh, yeah, I’ll see you guys later, I guess. Um, bye.”

 

She books it, leaving them to have their Sister Bonding talk. Feeling a little warm, Karolina heads out onto the mostly-empty balcony, letting herself recuperate from the noise of the party. 

 

She looks up at the stars, and is suddenly hit with a feeling of wanting to go home to them. Before all of this, when she was just a church girl who did everything her mother said, she never dreamed of anything brighter than the candles she lit to pray. But now, with what she knows, what she’s seen? She can’t help but look up at the twinkling sky, and wonder what she’d find if she went up there.  _ Who  _ she’d find. 

 

_ Wait for me, stars, _ she tells them silently,  _ because I’m coming. Someday soon, I will find what I’m looking for in you.  _

 

**__________**

 

“So,” Gert starts, “you-”

 

Molly cuts her off before she can finish, blurting, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you! I’m just- I’m not sure, yet, about, like, labels? And I didn’t want to tell anybody until I was certain, but I should’ve told you-”

 

“Woah, woah, slow down, Molls.” Gert reaches out, putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder and leaning in a little. “You were not, are not, and will not ever be under any sort of obligation to share that type of thing with me. I will be- I’ll be elated, if you choose to, and I’m glad I know now, but I’m sorry that it didn’t happen on your own terms. This is...this is  _ your  _ thing, Molly. And I’m gonna love you any way that you are, even if that way is, like, shaving your head or piercing your face twelve times.”

 

Molly giggles a little, and if Gert’s not mistaken, she sees some teary eyes through the sockets of her helmet. “Yeah?”

 

“Of course.” Wow, she’s actually pretty good at this, considering how much it sucked when she came out to Dale and Stacey. Sure, they were uber supportive, but they also told...everyone. Which meant that all her friends knew before she even got the chance to sit down and tell them. But maybe she can learn from her parents’ mistakes. Maybe that’s what they’ve all been trying their hardest to do. 

 

Molly grins, then pulls Gert in for a tight hug. Luckily, her ribs don’t become accidentally bruised this time. It’s happened before. 

 

Out of nowhere, her sister makes a surprised, almost offended noise. Gert pulls away from the hug, confused as she asks, “What?”

 

“Nothing!” Molly says, voice a high squeak. “Just, don’t turn around.”

 

Well, of course that means Gert has to turn around.

 

“Oh.” she says, feeling way more devastated than she would like to. If she were better at the whole emotional control thing, she could pretend that seeing Chase being flirted with doesn’t make her feel like her entire body is rotting. Unfortunately, she’s not, and it does. 

 

God, the girl putting the moves on him is way prettier than Gert, too. Like, sure, she’s full of Self-Worth and Confidence and a bunch of other feminist things, but even just looking at the girl makes Gert feel like the dirt under her Balenciaga pumps. She’s pretty in that way that supermodels are pretty, or head cheerleaders; the type of girl that says all the right things and laughs at all the right times and looks perfect 24/7. In short, the type of girl Chase used to date before all their lives got turned upside down. Sometimes, Gert thinks he only ever went for her because no one else was available, and rich girls don’t date guys who live underground and wear thrift store clothes. 

 

Chase used to tell her that that was foolish of her, but it’s harder to believe when he’s red as a tomato and, also, probably not that into Gert anymore. She can still pray that he doesn’t do the arm stretch, though. That’s his Move, and if he does it, then maybe she was right to decide to just be friends, no matter how much it hurts. 

 

Frozen in place and mind screaming,  _ NO NO NO NO,  _ Gert watches, pained, as Chase stretches his arms wide. Oh, god, she’s going to puke. Never before has she hated being right this fucking much.

 

“Gert, are you...okay?”

 

As her sister speaks, Chase’s eyes meet hers in the crowd, suddenly going wide as saucers. With what seems like a quick apology to the girl, Chase leaves her and starts making his way towards Gert. Fuck. “I have to go.”

 

Molly shouting at her back, Gert hurries out of the ballroom, the train of her dress fluttering as she does like she’s some goddamn fairytale princess. Stupid Nico making this stupid dress all stupid princess-y. Stupid Chase and his stupid teenage boy brain and stupid charmingness. But most of all, stupid Gert, for not getting rid of these fucking feelings like she  _ said  _ she would. 

 

Gert leaves the ballroom and makes a few twists and turns so Chase can’t follow her, ending up in an ornate- and empty- corridor. One wall is basically all windows, and the other is lined with paintings and fancy, rich people tapestries. 

 

Feeling tired all of a sudden, Gert stumbles over to the wall with the art pieces and slides down it to the floor. Because it’s less a gown and more a cloud, the skirt of the dress poofs out in both directions, an arc of shimmering tulle that takes up at least half the width of the corridor. 

 

God, she hates herself for this. She hates these dumb feelings, hates how she just can’t let him  _ go.  _ Why does she even care that Chase was flirting? Wasn’t she just doing the same thing with Roach Guy? (Yes, she knows his name is Earl. No, she doesn’t care.)

 

But what she was doing with Roach Guy had a  _ purpose. _ It was part of the  _ plan.  _ Chase was flirting with that girl because he  _ wanted _ to. He was flirting with her because that’s the type of girl that guys like Chase  _ always _ flirt with. Pretty and perfect and basically the opposite of Gert. 

 

She can be mad all she wants, yell and insult and tell him she hates him, but deep down, a small, miserable part of her- or a big, miserable part of her- just wishes Chase wanted her. Wishes she was enough for him to stay. She knows that they’ve talked everything through, and that it was may more complex than that, and blah, blah, blah, but in her heart, she knows that that’s why she hasn’t been able to forgive him. To finally feel fully comfortable with being intimate with him, and then be full stop rejected after proposing the idea? That  _ hurt. _ Maybe almost as much as him leaving in the first place. 

 

“Gert? Can we talk?”

 

_ Oh, great. _ Can’t she just ignore him? She does have an excuse- with only one ear working properly, she could just pretend she doesn’t hear him. But, unfortunately, she doesn’t really want to. “No. Go away.”

 

Looking more like a kicked puppy than anything else, Chase enters her field of view. “Are you- are you sure?”

 

Gert meets his eyes, and suddenly feels incredibly, incredibly weak. Is this how it will always be? Will she ever be in a place where she can behave normally around him? “...Fine.”

 

Chase grins a little, awkward and apologetic, then sits down beside her. Due to the size of the skirt, he’s all but forced to sit almost a foot away.  _ Thank you, Nico and your grandiose fashion choices. _

 

For a few moments, it’s silent, which is absolutely the worst for her anxiety. He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he? She bets he is. Irritably, Gert says, “You said you wanted to talk, so, talk. There are other things we have to do tonight.”

 

“Right. Right. I, um- sorry.” Oh. He’s  _ nervous.  _ “I just...I’m sorry, that you had to, um, see that? I mean- no, I’m not. The point was for you to see it. But I didn’t realize you’d get so upset, which was probably stupid on my part, I mean, I was just...I was just trying to make you jealous. I never meant to make you cry. I hate making you cry. It makes me feel like an asshole.”

 

Gert snorts. “You were trying to make me jealous?”

 

Chase nods. “Yeah. I didn’t even- I mean, that girl is totally not my type, anyway.”

 

She rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh, sure. Come on, Chase, we both know you’re into cheerleaders and models, not... not girls who wear boots under their dresses.”

 

Gert tugs upwards on her skirt to show him the worn brown boots she’s wearing instead of the heels Nico tried to force on her, and Chase huffs a laugh. Almost teasing, he knocks the side of his dress shoe against her boot. “We don’t ‘both’ know that, Gert. I would’ve thought you of all people would know not to make assumptions, especially about what someone’s ‘type’ may or may not be.”

 

Gert swallows. “Then...what  _ is  _ your type?”

 

Chase meets her eyes, and suddenly the whole moment feels incredibly intimate. Softly, he says, “You.”

 

Gert’s throat feels dry. Her throat feels dry, and her chest is tight, and she can’t make herself look away from him. She suddenly understands the meaning of eye  _ contact- _ they’re not touching, but for all her poor, weary brain cells know, Chase has just kissed her full on the mouth. 

 

Oh, no, now she’s thinking about kissing him.

 

Gert’s eyes fall shut as she lets out a miserable little groan and leans back against the wall. “You can’t just  _ say  _ that!”

 

Chase huffs a laugh. “And why not?”

 

“Because!”

 

He laughs again, shifting closer to her. Fuck, he smells so good. Like,  _ annoyingly  _ good. “Because?”

 

“Just... _ because, _ okay? You shouldn’t be allowed to say that type of thing. We should make that a  _ rule.” _

 

“Oh, we’re doing rules now?” He says it in a teasing tone, and when Gert opens her eyes, she’s unsurprised to see the smirk on his face. “Can I propose one?”

 

The butterflies that had been fluttering in her stomach suddenly die a painful death. “You really think you’re in any position to set rules regarding our relationship?”

 

Chase’s expression sours guiltily, then brightens again not seconds later. “Wait, we have a relationship?”

 

_ Of course that’s what you focus on.  _ Gert clears her throat, looking away from him. “A platonic one, sure.”

“...Oh.” He sounds so disappointed. “Okay.”

 

“You know it’s gonna be hard for me to get back to that place, right?” She blurts, rushed and quiet. She can’t look at him. “Like, no matter how much I care about you, no matter how much I want to forgive you- I just  _ can’t,  _ Chase.” Oh, fuck, she’s crying, now. “I just- I just don’t think I trust you anymore, which is an awful thing to say, but my confidence in you is just...gone.”

 

“How do I get it back?” Chase asks, sounding about as worked up as she feels. She still can’t look at him.

 

“That’s- that’s the thing, Chase. Trust isn’t given, it’s earned. It comes through- through  _ action,  _ and _ support,  _ and- and not flirting with supermodels at parties to make me jealous. You have to  _ want _ it. And I don’t know if you do. I don’t even know you won’t decide you’ve ‘grown out of’ us again. So- so until you prove that you deserve that kind of trust, I’m done. I can’t put myself in the position to get hurt by you again, not with everything happening- so I’m done. We can be friends, and if we get back to where we were before, maybe something more. Maybe. But the night you left just felt like all of my worst fears coming true, and I was...wrecked. It almost broke me. So I can’t let that happen again.”  _ I can’t let myself be vulnerable again. Not with you, or anybody else. _

 

Chase swallows, and Gert finally looks up at him. He looks fucking devastated. “O-okay. That, um, that makes sense. You know I’m gonna- I’m gonna do everything in my power for you to trust me again, though, right? I- I want to be there for you, Gert. I’m sorry I wasn’t before. I feel like- I feel like we wasted so much time. Like  _ I _ wasted so much time.”

 

_ Okay, ouch.  _ “You think...you think our relationship was a waste of your time?”

 

_ “What? _ No! No, that’s not what I meant at all, oh my God,  _ no.” _ Almost frantic, Chase reaches over and grabs both her hands in his, clutching them desperately. “I meant that we were arguing so much that I feel like neither of us appreciated what we had, me more than you. Like- I was with the most amazing, beautiful girl-  _ the _ girl. And-”

 

“What do you mean, ‘the’ girl?”

 

Chase’s brows go up, surprised at her confusion. “Come on, Gert. Like anyone else could ever hold a candle to you.”

 

She rolls her eyes and looks away, wishing she wasn’t blushing. “What did I say about the sappy shit?”

 

“I mean, I didn’t think it was sappy, I was just telling you the truth. There’s…there’s really nobody else for me, Gert. Like, when I think of who I want to be with, romantically or no, it’s always, always you.”   
  


And, well, if that’s not everything Gert has ever wanted to hear and then some. 

 

They’re close, now, really close, and he’s still holding onto her hands like he physically can’t let go. He’s waiting for a response, probably, but Gert is just frozen in the moment, studying his face. His eyes are so pretty. (She’s noting this platonically, of course.)

 

“Gert?” 

 

“Did you know your eyes have little shots of gold in them?” She blurts, feeling strangely undone by it. She doesn’t know how she never noticed before. 

 

The corner of Chase’s mouth quirks up. “They do?”

 

Gert swallows. “Yeah.” 

 

They’re way too close right now. She doesn’t know when they started to inch towards each other; just that all of a sudden their faces are so close that she can feel his breath on her mouth, and all she can think about is how good it used to be when he kissed her, soft and slow and perfect.

 

But she doesn’t want to be kissed right now. Instead, Gert lets her eyes fall closed, and leans forward a little to press her forehead to his. For a few moments, it’s quiet. Chase is doing that thing where he trails his fingertips along the inside of her forearm, and they just...breathe. It’s intimate in a way that kissing isn’t, and for the first time in a while, Gert feels at peace, with him. 

 

But, like, in a friend way.

 

From the far away ballroom, music wafts in, classical and a little haunting. They pull back from each other, but only barely. In a hushed tone, Chase asks, “Are you ready to go back in, yet?”

 

Though she knows it couldn’t have, leaving the ballroom feels like it happened hours ago. “I guess so. Just...give me a minute. I like being here, with you. Platonically, I mean.”

 

Chase grins, a small, loving thing, the kind that’s always been just for her. “Me, too. Platonically.” 

 

She huffs a laugh, reaching up and ghosting the tips of her fingers along his jaw. “Yeah, I bet. All snuggled up with me complimenting you. You must be loving that.”

 

“Want me to even the playing field? Because I have some choice words about that dress you’re wearing.”

 

“Yeah?” Gert asks. They’re both still speaking in hushed, quiet, tones, even though there’s no one else around. “Want to share?”

 

“‘Course. I’m always eager to talk about how beautiful you are.” He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the corner of his mouth quirking up again in  that way that loves to tease her. “...Platonically.”

 

She snorts. “The worst.”

 

Chase continues like he didn’t hear her, saying, “I think you look radiant, Gert. Just...absolutely stunning. Pretty sure my heart stopped when I first saw you.”

 

Gert raises an eyebrow. “In general, or just today?”

 

Chase shrugs a little. “Both.”

 

She rolls her eyes a little, trying not to smile. “Alright, Romeo. We really should head back in, now.”

 

“Yeah…” The faint music from the ballroom swells, and Chase turns towards the sound. “Hey, when we get back, do you wanna dance, maybe? As, um, friends.”

 

Gert’s brows go up, and she restrains herself from making a comment about the  _ last  _ time they danced together. “I’d...I’d love to.”

 

**__________**

 

“Oh, ick,” Nico says as she watches Gert and Chase dance with all their secretly-loving looks and held-back smiles. “I hate heterosexuals.”

 

This is a lie, of course, at least when in reference to Gert and Chase. Otherwise it’s mostly true. Karolina, who’s standing next to her and watching the crowd, knows this. Nico has subjected her girlfriend to her whining about their stupidity too often for Karolina  to not. “Gert would smite you if she heard you calling her het, babe.”

“What Gert doesn’t know can’t hurt her. I was mostly joking, anyway. I just think dancing is dumb.” 

 

Weirdly, Karolina crosses her arms, suddenly uncomfortable. “You- you do?”

 

“Duh. This entire thing is kinda...a lot for me. Like I’d way rather be home with you than here, if it wasn’t for...you know.”

 

“Well, I mean,” Karolina says, eyes still on Gert and Chase, “they sure look like they’re having a good time. They seem like they’re having a lot of fun, to me.”

 

From what Nico can see, Chase is trying his best to teach Gert how to waltz, and it is not going well. Gert keeps trying to lead, but doesn’t really know what she’s doing- mainly because a good waltz is about teamwork and not one person leading the charge. And, hey, if that’s not a metaphor for their relationship, Nico doesn’t know what is. 

 

Nico scoffs. “Yeah, embarrassing themselves.”

 

Karolina shifts uncomfortably. “I mean, okay…”

 

And then suddenly it dawns on her, and she feels incredibly, incredibly stupid. “Wait...do you want to dance?”

 

“Not if you think it’s dumb…” Karolina mumbles, blushing.

 

“No, no, I was- I was being a jerk. Let’s dance.” 

 

Nico grabs her girlfriend’s hand and drags her onto the dance floor, placing her hands in the right position. It takes a moment, because she has to figure out how to avoid Karolina’s big fuck-off fairy wings that she insisted upon, but she finds a way.

 

For a while, they just sway, because neither of them really know how to waltz, and this is more fun, anyway. Stumbly and clumsy and all around just a mess, but  _ fun.  _

 

Giggling, Karolina tries to twirl her, and it sort of works. The skirt of her deep green (because Gert said she couldn’t wear black) dress does that thing that all big skirts do when its wearer does their best attempt to make themselves dizzy, twirling out in a wide, flowy arc. Unfortunately, Nico’s heels are just too high to accomplish this, and she nearly goes tumbling to the floor.

 

Karolina catches her at the last second, making it seem like a graceful, purposeful dip instead of Nico being a clumsy dumbass. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

 

Heart still pounding, Nico grins up at her gratefully- and a little in awe, honestly. From here, she almost looks like a goddess. “Thanks, Karrie.”

 

Karolina huffs a laugh at how Nico’s voice must sound, sappy and lovey dovey and all those things Nico used to say were for suckers. She helps her stand upright again, hands now firmly on her hips. Nico is now regretting going with the modest, ‘long sheer sleeves and full skirt’ look, no matter how cute it is. She really should’ve gone for slutty, at least it’d be easier to remove. She doesn’t even have much cleavage going on- although, that’s just the norm for her.

 

But then one of Karolina’s hands trails away from her hip, and she remembers the low back of the dress, which she’d been unsure about at the time but is now very, very thankful for. With her hand now at the small of her (bare) back, they start to sway again. Karolina’s other hand goes up, up, up; finally reaching her face and ghosting her fingertips along the bottom of her mask. “I like this.”

 

“Yeah?” Nico says, blushing. The mask is shaped like the front of a skull, made of hammered, dark metal. “I like your whole...thing, that you’ve got going on. Very Titania from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

 

Karolina lights up.  _ “Right?  _ That’s what I said! I mean, I couldn’t remember her name, but that’s totally the vibe.”

 

The song fades out, replaced by something she distantly recognizes. It’s that song from Cinderella, the one that goes...wait, how does it go?

 

_ “So this is love, so this is love, oh, this is what makes life divine…” _ Karolina mumbles, and, oh, right. Leave it to Disney movies to make the most lovey-dovey songs of all time. Nico doesn’t know why she used to enjoy them so much.

 

Except yes, she does. Amy was obsessed with them, which meant Nico was obsessed with them, because to her, her big sister was practically God, especially when she was a little kid. As they grew older, they kept up the tradition- but it all stopped when Amy died. Now, she would rather eat Walt Disney’s frozen corpse like ice cream than watch even one of his movies. 

 

But this song is nice. And Karolina clearly likes it, or maybe she just likes dancing. Though she made fun of it before, Nico can’t help but feel the same way. After all, anything is enjoyable with Karolina by her side- or in her arms. Nico is good either way.

 

**__________**

 

Things are going almost completely according to plan, and he can’t say he’s not pleased. Sure, Gertrude and Chase ran off to either procreate or murder each other, but they came back, and now they’re participating in some kind of mating ritual that involves Chase trying very hard to teach Gertrude how to waltz and Gertrude failing miserably. She’s stubborn, but if you ask him, it’s an admirable quality. Like a little chihuahua who’s determined to make it up a steep set of stairs.

 

**_Yeah, Gert’s like that. Also, LET ME OUT-_ **

 

“Shut up,” he says out loud, accidental but unfortunately loud enough to be overheard by Xavin, who hasn’t left his side for the past half hour. He suspects that they suspect that he is worthy of suspicion- oh, bother, that didn’t make sense. Though he’s learned much from brain-melding with this host, English is hard to get the hang of, and when apprehensively asked for aid, the host informed him that he failed Language Arts in high school. Although, he has acquired an extraordinary amount of information about something called Fortnite, so perhaps it’s not all a loss. 

 

“I haven’t said anything, Alexander,” Xavin replies, eyes beneath the mask seeming confused. “Are you feeling alright?”

 

They ask this the same way a banker might ask a college student if they feel good about their credit score, knowing the answer is no but expecting a yes, anyway.

 

Smoothly, he says, “Fine and dandy. Just talking to myself, is all.”

 

Xavin hums, taking a sip of their drink and maintaining eye contact for an almost uncomfortably long time. “If you say so. Just remember, that if you need...help, I can supply a certain kind that others might not be able to.”

 

He raises an eyebrow at them, surprised. “Are you coming on to me? I mean, I’m flattered, but-”

 

Xavin, who’d just taken another sip of their drink, spits it out immediately in the most dramatic spit-take this side of The 3 Stooges. Laughing their head off, they say, “Oh my goodness, you must be joking! I meant healing rituals from my home planet!”

 

His face feels very hot right now. Is he becoming ill? “Oh. I apologize.”

 

He should’ve known that. He’s known Xavin for an inordinately long amount of time- longer than time itself, really- so he should have known what they meant. He feels...silly.

 

Trying to distract himself from the embarrassment, he looks out over the crowd for Chase and Molly. He’s supposed to inform Father when they leave to find the brain scrambler, so he knows to be prepared for them. They should be easy enough to find- Molly’s outfit is an eyecatcher, and though Chase’s is not, Gertrude is practically the belle of the ball, and they’ve barely left each other’s sides, so- oh, no.

 

Gertrude is standing by herself near the doors to the balcony, which was her agreed surveillance placement once Chase and Molly snuck away. She’s wearing Chase’s jacket, as well, which bodes...just great! Just awesome!

 

His eyes search frantically for Molly, hoping he’s wrong, but, nope, she’s not in the ballroom, either. Oh, this is bad, this is horrible, what will this mean for him when he faces his father?

 

**_Hey! Hey, asshole! I know the answer to that one!_ ** says the little boy in his head.  **_It means...you’re fucked! Have fun!_ **

 

**__________**

 

“Dun dun dun dun dun-“

 

“Molly, please,” Chase whispers, “I appreciate the dedication to the sneaking around thing, but somebody is going to hear you if you keep humming the James Bond theme.”

 

Molly rolls her eyes. “Why do you gotta ruin my fun? Come on, Chase, we’re, like,  _ so  _ far away from the party. Nobody’s around-“

 

There’s a noise at the end of the hallway, and Chase grabs her by the arm and yanks her behind a pillar, glaring pointedly as the sound of footsteps fade away. That must be a guard, which must mean they’re getting closer to the brain scrambler!

 

She whispers this to Chase, but he just continues to glare. “We just almost got  _ caught,  _ Molls, this isn’t somehow good.”

 

“Shut up. You sound like my sister. Or my mom.” One of these is much worse than the other, and from the face he makes when she finishes her sentence, he knows it. 

 

“Okay, harsh with the mom thing, but you can’t say I’m not right. Anyway, we’re close, let’s go.”

 

The next few moments are filled with an itchy kind of silence as they make their way to the room where the brain scrambler is being held, according to Gert’s guard. Feeling like she needs to say something so it’s not so freaking quiet anymore, Molly starts, “So, what happened when you chased after Gert? You guys seemed pretty happy when you got back.”

 

Though the lighting is dim, she can still see how red Chase’s cheeks are. “We, um, talked. About some stuff.”

 

“Did she say that thing about being just friends?” Chase nods, seeming surprised. What, did he think she  _ didn’t _ know? “Yeah, I thought so. I also think it makes sense, by the way.”

 

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I don’t  _ want _ it to, but...she needs time. And I- I  _ hope _ it gives us an opportunity to grow, and-”

 

“Learn how not to fight every three seconds?”

 

Chase sighs. “That, too. I just...I want to be an  _ us _ again. It was nice, to- to have somebody like that.”

 

“Hey, come on,” Molly says in the most comforting tone she can muster, patting him on the arm, “don’t lose hope. It’s the only thing we’ve got left, y’know.”

 

“Wow, poetic. Also, we’re here.”

 

Well, they’re not  _ here _ here. They’re ten feet away, hidden behind a pillar with their eyes on the guard standing beside of the door. Molly grins- this will be easy.

 

“Okay, I’ve got this. Take my helmet?” She hands it to him, ignoring his confused expression. The lost little girl act works better without rams horns.

 

She fluffs out her hair, then walks out from behind the pillar with a helpless look on her face. “Hello? Can somebody help me?”

 

The guard turns his attention to her, immediately charmed.

 

“How’d you get all the way over here, sweetheart?”  _ Ew.  _ “This area is supposed to be restricted.”

 

Molly pulls out the doe eyes, saying, “I’m really sorry, sir, I was just looking for the bathroom, and I got totally lost! This place is soooo big, it’s really scary. Do you know how to get back?”

 

The guard approaches her, standing much too close as he pulls out a floor plan and starts giving her directions. “Well, first you turn left, then right, then left, then left again- you sure you don’t want me to just walk you there, sweetheart?”

 

“No, thanks. I’ve got it.” And then she punches him square in the face, and he falls backwards with an almost comical  _ thunk.  _ “Much appreciated, though.”

 

“You’re getting better at the one-liners,” Chase teases as he comes out from behind the pillar. “Need any help?”

 

“Nah,” Molly says, in the middle of dragging the unconscious guard into a shadowed corner. She drops his limp body in a heap, dusting off her hands. “I’ve got it.”

 

Chase shakes his head a little, then beckons her to follow him inside.

 

They step into the room, and Chase flicks on the light switch. The room is empty, save for the brain scrambler sitting in a glass case on a pedestal in the center of the room.

 

“So, that’s definitely boobytrapped.”

 

“Oh, for sure,” Chase responds. “Hm. I think I can get it out, though.”

 

Molly scoffs. “And how are you gonna do that?”

 

“I dunno, brainpower? Also, these.” Out of his messenger bag, which he’d hidden under the drinks table at the start of the party and grabbed when they’d left, he pulls out the fistigons. 

 

She raises an eyebrow. “How is an energy blast gonna help?”

 

“I’ve been fine-tuning lately.” He does that weird wiggling thing with his eyebrows that Karolina always says makes them look like furry caterpillars. “Lazer-beams, here we come!”

 

Molly giggles, amused. She watches, apprehensive as Chase straps on one of the gauntlets, presses a few buttons, and then shoots a focused beam as the glass, cutting a circle out of it. She lets out a low whistle as he catches the smooth circle of glass in his palm. “Impressive.”

 

“Thank you. Hey, will you kill me if I use your helmet as a weight for the trigger panel?”

 

Molly huffs, then agrees, saying, “I’m doing the switch, though.”

 

Chase groans, opening his mouth to argue, but Molly beats him to it. “Let me live out my James Bond dreams in peace, jerkface.”

 

She grabs the helmet from him, and very, very carefully, makes the switch. She winces at the  _ thunk  _ the helmet makes, then retracts her hand, brain scrambler in her grasp. “Got it.”

 

Chase breathes a sigh of relief. “Perfect. You did great, Molls- out there, too, with the guard. I’m proud of you.”

 

Molly grins, about to respond- but she’s interrupted by purposeful footsteps and slow, sharp, clapping.

 

“Yes, we are all very proud of Ms. Hernandez,” says a cold, masculine voice, and Chase’s eyes go wide as saucers.

 

“Shit, shit,  _ fuck,”  _ he whispers, then turns to her, frantic. “Molly, go.  _ Go.” _

 

She tries to ask him who it is, but he just gestures wildly, saying, “Get help. I’ll deal with him.”

 

_ “Deal  _ with me?” Suddenly, she knows who it is, despite the shadows he’s hiding in.

 

“Chase, I’m  _ not  _ leaving you!”

 

“Molly, you’re more important, take the scrambler and go-“

 

Oh, he did  _ not  _ just say that. “No one’s more important! We’re a  _ team!” _

 

“Aw, how sweet,” says Chase’s father, or, more likely, Jonah possessing Chase’s father. Although, from what she knows of their personalities, there isn’t much difference. “But, unfortunately, he’s right. Chase and I need to have a man to man talk. Now, hand over the machine, and you can leave without a scratch on your pretty little-“

 

Molly throws the brain scrambler to the ground and stomps down on it without any fanfare, then books it, grinning at the choked, miserable sound Victor makes. She sprints down the hallway, stopping once she’s far enough away that it’s safe to stop and catch her breath.

 

It’s only then that she realizes that Chase didn’t follow her out.

 

**__________**

 

“What did she just  _ do,  _ the plans for that were lost in the chaos your little friend caused at HQ, I am going to-“

 

Chase grabs his father by the arm, holding him back. “You are not going to do  _ anything  _ to Molly, or any of my other friends. Not again.”

 

His father sneers at him, wrenching himself out of Chase’s grip. “Oh, yes, they’re your  _ friends.  _ Your friends, who were given an offer to have a happy life with you, and chose doom instead. You must be loving it, back there with them, eh, son?”

 

Chase swallows. “That’s  _ not  _ what happened. I- I was in the wrong, I-“

 

_ “You  _ in the wrong?” says Victor, indignant. “I was sick! Of  _ course  _ you had to come home!”

 

And,  _ oh.  _ Chase knows what he’s doing, now. Well, he’s not going to listen, not this time. “This isn’t going to work, Dad.”

 

“What isn’t, son? I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Yes, you  _ do.  _ I know what this is, okay? You’re playing into my fears and insecurities to get what you want, just- just like you always have. You don’t change, Dad, no matter what you promise, no matter what you do.” He swallows, trying to keep eye contact. If he looks away, he loses. It’s like a staring contest to the death. “People like you never change.”

 

Victor’s eyes narrow. “‘People like me’? Chase I am your  _ father-“ _

 

“You’re an abusive manipulator who convinced me to walk away from the people I love for your own selfish reasons. You hurt me, you belittle me, you- you  _ kill  _ me, Dad.”  _ Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.  _ “You kill me.”

 

Victor’s shoulders drop, defeated- but then the anger comes back, just like it always does. Through gritted teeth, he says, “I only want what’s best for you. That’s what family  _ does.” _

 

“You’re not my family. Molly is my family, Gert is my family, Nico-“

 

“Eugh,” Victor says, making a face. “All those women. That’s why you’re so sensitive, you know. Them, and your mother, terrible woman that she was.”

 

“Hey, women are- wait,  _ was?”  _ No, no,  _ no.  _ He didn’t. He  _ couldn’t have.  _

 

“Yes, son. We needed a sacrifice, and, well, it was her or you, really. Be grateful.”

 

“...Grateful?” He asks, voice quiet and disbelieving. This can’t be happening. This  _ can’t  _ be  _ happening.  _ “You- you- how could-?”

 

Victor shrugs. “She meant nothing to me, really. And, besides, this body requires a certain kind of sustenance that the American Food Guide doesn’t include on its pages.”

 

Chase doesn’t respond, mostly because he’s in the middle of a mental breakdown. 

 

He’s just regained enough cognizance to say something, anything, when there’s a noise near the doorway, and they both turn.

 

Victor rolls his eyes, but he can’t see what’s coming through the tears. “Chase, don’t-“

 

“Keep his name out of your mouth, you blithering  _ shitbag.” Oh, Gert’s here,  _ he notes passively. His whole brain feels dead right now. 

 

Gert enters the room, a purple haired hurricane as her momentum propels her straight into Victor, knocking him to the ground with a  _ crash.  _ Viciously, she stomps her boot into his dazed face. Because this is Gert, and Gert is amazing, she spits right in his eye and says, “Get what you deserve, bitch.”

 

She turns to him with a bright smile, but it fades when she sees his face. She approaches him, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes, like she can find out what happened just through eye contact. “What did he say to you? What’s wrong?”

 

Chase lets his eyes fall closed, wishing this wasn’t happening, wishing this wasn’t real, wishing he wasn’t halfway to sobbing. Hoarse, he says, “My mother is dead.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Je Sais Que Tu M'Entends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 6 stages of grief, condensed.

_ “Mommy, where are you? I’m scared!”  _

 

_ Chase didn’t like the idea of going into the corn maze in the first place, and turns out he was right, because now he was all alone, the tall stalks looming over him menacingly. He  _ **_told_ ** _ Mommy that he didn’t want to go in- Gert made him watch The Labyrinth with her last night, the one with the Bowie dude, and getting snatched up by a glittery monster-man was  _ **_not_ ** _ in his plans for today. He just wanted to find a pumpkin for the jack-o-lantern party the Minorus were throwing tomorrow, pet some goats, and go home. But, nooooooooo. Mommy was dead-set on dragging him through the corn maze, and now look what had happened! He was lost! He was lost and alone, and it was all her fault! _

 

_ Feeling more panicked by the second, Chase looked both ways, deciding to run left and to run left as fast as he could. As he sprinted, the cornstalks started to close in on him, the rustling from the wind sounding like vicious laughter to his ears. He tripped, scraping his knee but getting right back up and keeping on from the adrenaline. _ **_Get out, get out, get out, now!_ **

 

_ He turned a corner, seeing a blonde woman with her back to him at the end of the lane. Elated, he started to run toward her, calling, “Mom! Mom, it’s me!” _

 

_ Just as he reached her, the woman turned around, and he realized that she wasn’t his mother at all. In fact, she wasn’t even a woman. She couldn’t have been older than sixteen. She kind of looked like Kat from that movie Gert likes, the one about 10 things, or whatever. The eyes were way different, though. Big and brown and...confused. Chase was glad he wasn’t the only one. _

 

_ “You’re not my mom.” _

 

_ The girl scoffed. “Do I  _ **_look_ ** _ like- never mind. You’re not who I’m looking for, either, kid.” _

 

_ His brows creased. “Who are you looking for?” _

 

_ “A friend of mine who disappeared. We tried everything, and Ty said this could work, but obviously he was wrong. I just want to know if she’s okay.” _

 

_ Chase reached up to pat her on the arm. “I hope you find her.” _

 

_ “Me, too.” _

 

_ The dream shatters, and for half a second, Chase stands alone in a glaringly white empty space, and there’s a voice, telling him, “Chase, it’s time to wake up, honey. You need…” _

 

~~~~~

 

“To eat something, okay? You’re worrying me.”

 

Chase groans in response, pressing his face deeper into the pillow. He’s very grateful to Gert for letting him use her bed over his hammock, and she deserves the world and more, let alone some basic conversation. But he just has...can’t. He can’t. 

 

Gert sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “You could at least talk to me, y’know. Or anybody. We miss you.”

 

Chase swallows, throat dry. He doesn’t think he could even come out from under the blankets right now. It’s much easier to mourn when he can hide under here, where nobody can see him. It’s much easier to mourn alone.

 

Light as a feather, Gert’s hand ghosts along his arm, back and forth, back and forth. Quiet, she says, “Grief is really hard. Especially when you lose someone who hurt you. You feel all jumbled up inside, because you don’t want to mourn, you want to- you want to not care. But to care is to be human, Chase. To mourn is to be human, too. I- I get why you’ve been sleeping so much, these past few days. I get why you don’t want to get out of bed. Dreams are so much softer than the real world. But that’s not- it’s not going to work forever, Chase. You need to- you need to feel your feelings, even if they hurt. You can’t sleep off losing someone you love, same as you can’t sleep off a concussion. It just causes you more pain in the long run.”

 

Chase squeeze his eyes shut, tears streaming silently down his face. He doesn’t know what to say, and wouldn’t know how to say it if he did.

 

After waiting a few moments, Gert sighs, patting him on the arm. She stands, saying, “Okay, your call. Just eat something, at least. And know that if you need to talk, I’m your girl.”

 

She starts to leave, and just when the door creaks open, he mumbles, “Hey, wait.”

 

“Yeah?” Gert responds, surprisingly quickly for someone with a botched ear. Of course, she hasn’t actually  _ told _ him about said botched ear, and he doesn’t know exactly what happened, but, like, come on. It’s obvious, if you pay attention, and he’s always paying attention to Gert.

 

He swallows, already regretting speaking. Well, there’s no real stopping now, is there? He licks his lips, then says, “Will you...will you come here, please?”

 

Gert returns to her spot at the edge of the bed, waiting. Feeling as though he’s the biggest bitch baby in the world, he mumbles, “No, like,  _ here, _ here.”

 

“You want a hug?”

 

He bites his lip. “Yeah. If that’s okay.”

 

“‘Course it is.” She starts to move, then stops. “It’d be a bit easier if you came out from under the blankets, though.”

 

“No, I look terrible. I’m saving you, I promise.” Well, he probably looks terrible. He hasn’t really looked in a mirror lately, or even, like, got out of bed. 

 

“As if I care. Come on, Chase, please?”

 

Feeling like he’s making a terrible mistake, Chase pulls the blanket away from his face and cracks an eye open. Oh, it’s daytime. It’s also very blurry. Attempting to make eye contact with the blob that is Gert, he asks, “Hand me my glasses?”

 

The purple haired blob does so, and he shoves them on his face, blinking hard. Squinting, he groans, “It’s really bright out.”

 

“No, you just haven’t been exposed to sunlight in three to five business days.” He meets her eyes, and Gert grins softly. “Hey, tiger. Missed seeing that face of yours.”

 

“Even when I look like this?” He croaks. Gesturing to his face, he tells her, “This is warmed-over garbage, Gert. This is a rotting frog corpse.”

 

She shrugs a little. “Hey, I did pretty good in Bio.”

 

Chase scoffs, shifting to sit up in bed. “You did terrible in Bio. I was in your class, remember? You can’t hide this shit from me.”

 

Gert snorts. “Okay, fair. Remember that time I almost blew up the lab?”

 

“Yes, I remember when you turned the easiest assignment of the year into an accident so bad the school had to get evacuated. I had a game that day, and it got cancelled because you were arguing about cows being fully-realized beings who we should appreciate more, and ended up knocking over an entire tray of full-to-the-brim beakers in the process.”

 

Gert bites her lip. “Okay, but I was, like, right.”

 

“Yes, but did you have to explain that through theatrical hand gestures?” He actually quite likes the theatrical hand gestures, but they do get her into trouble sometimes.

 

“It’s part of my charm. Hey, feeling a bit better, now?”

 

She says it with a knowing kind of smile, and he narrows his eyes. “I’ve been tricked, haven’t I? You’ve bamboozled me into acting like a person again.”

 

“Maaaaybe. You want that hug now?”

 

Chase swallows, then nods, and Gert closes the distance between them to envelop him in her arms. They’re very strong, Gert’s arms. They didn’t used to be, but since she got bit by the Wonder-Woman bug, she’s definitely put on some muscle. 

 

He presses his face into her shoulder and breathes her in, trying to steady himself. Trying to make himself feel real. Being with Gert has always helped with that- even just being in the same room as her makes what he’s always called ‘cotton ball brain’ dissipate. 

 

For a while, it’s quiet. The only noise in the room is a rustling of wind outside and the sound of her breathing, in and out, in and out, in and out. At some point, it starts to happen in sync, and it’s easy as, well, breathing. And maybe that doesn’t totally make sense, but Chase is allowed to not make sense right now. It’s his God-given right to be completely incomprehensible during this period.

 

He should at least try to talk, though. For her. He has to put the effort in, even if it’s just with small things. So, he croaks, “How did you...do this? Before, I mean. When you got away. How did you deal?”

 

Gert freezes up, and he realizes that maybe he shouldn’t have asked that, or even broached the subject at all. Damn him and his lack of common sense. He’s always been good at keeping quiet, knowing when not to say things- growing up with his father taught him that lesson all too well. But being around her makes him feel so off-kilter, sometimes- in a good way, though. He feels untethered around her. Free. 

 

Of course, this Gert-induced freeness can sometimes result in forgetting to have a filter, or, like, common sense. Gert doesn’t talk about her dad, or anything that happened on that trip. It’s a rule- an unspoken one, maybe, but still a rule. Little details come out here and there, but for the most part, Gert is completely silent on the I Got Kidnapped front.

 

She swallows, uncomfortable, and Chase sits up and pulls away a bit so he can look at her. Unexpectedly, Gert grabs his forearm as he does so. She won’t make eye contact, but from how firm her grip is, it’s obvious she doesn’t want him to move any farther away.

 

“Uhm, if you’re looking for the real answer, I guess it’s that I don’t.” Her voice is quiet, vulnerable. “It’s just easier, I guess. Not dealing with it means that I don’t have to think about how he hurt me, or how I hurt him. Not dealing with it means that I can shove the memory of that night into a deep dark hole and never look at it again.” They sit across from each other now, cross-legged. Gert hasn’t let go of his arm, and is now tracing the lines of his palm with the the tips of her fingers. “Not dealing with it means I don’t have to confront how I did that so easily, how I decided my life meant more than his did, how I left him there with no memory of who he was, no memory of me or Mom or Molly or anybody else. And- and Mom was the love of his life. Like, say what you want about my childhood, but they set the gold fucking standard for me as a kid. And I just...took that away. I think you were right, y’know. When you said I was selfish. I self-prioritize, and I isolate myself, and I build up walls, and...I’m selfish.”

 

“No, you’re not.” Gert looks up, surprised, and Chase tells her something that he’s had to repeat to himself many a time over the years. “Surviving isn’t selfish.”

 

For a moment, she just looks at him, like she doesn’t know how to process the words. She seems to debate how to respond for a few moments, then settles on, “Neither is grief. You’re allowed to mourn your mom in our vicinity, y’know. You don’t have to hole yourself up here until you think you can be ‘normal’ again. Grief is normal, too.”

 

Chase blinks a few times. “Okay, damn, go right for the gut, why don’t you.”

 

Gert shrugs. “Sorry. Honest by nature.”

 

“You’re brutal. I l-”  _ love you. _ Chase cuts himself off with a hacking fit, because confessing his love for her right now would not be very cash money, and coughing into the crook of his elbow like a barking seal is the quickest solution to the problem that he can think of. 

 

“Woah, woah, are you okay?” Gert asks, reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand and handing it to him. “Here, drink this.”

 

Chase unscrews the cap and takes a long sip, then says, “Sorry. I guess I’m not so used to talking again, yet.”

 

_ Wow, what a smooth subject change, Chase! You are so good at this! Absolutely completely talented!  _

 

Gert raises an eyebrow. “What were you gonna say, before?”

 

_...Or not. _

 

He swallows, wishing he could tell her the truth. Wishing he hadn’t wasted his chance to tell her when they were together, wishing he hadn’t been so afraid to be honest. If he could take it all back, if he could achieve the biggest Fuck You Dad moment ever and invent time travel to slap himself silly and pep talk past him into admitting his feelings, he would. “Never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

 

Whoever said that love is just timing was one annoyingly right son of a bitch.

 

**__________**

 

“Oh, hey. You’re, like, awake.”

 

Chase freezes, then turns around, as if caught. “Um, yes.”

 

She takes him in, noting the bag hung on his shoulder, the cash in his hand, and the fact that they’re only one room away from the Hostel entrance. “And you’re...leaving?”

 

“Also yes.” Nico’s eye twitches violently, and Chase huffs a laugh. Despite her worry, she still feels a little proud of herself for getting a smile out of him- he’s understandably been a real Mopey Mcgee lately. “But I’m coming back. I’m just headed to the grocery store.”

 

Nico lets out a small sigh of relief. “Oh. Wait, in that?”

 

Chase looks down at his plaid pyjama pants and a black hoodie so old it must be prehistoric. It also has the word PASTA stitched into the front in golden, flowery lettering, which is not helping his case. “I think I look fine.”

 

Nico rolls her eyes a little, but doesn’t say anything. Chase really doesn’t need to be made fun of right now. “Sure. You want company?”

 

He blinks, surprised. “Um, sure?”

 

“Cool, just let me pull on my shoes.”

 

They leave a few minutes later- Chase driving. Nico does not, will not, and never will get behind the wheel of the car, so he’s stuck with it. He seems a little bit better, now- still sullen, but he looks clean. She wonders who forced him to get out of bed and shower, then realizes that it was definitely Gert, so there’s no point in asking. 

 

She remembers this. The isolation. She remembers thinking it was better, easier to just lock herself up and never talk about her feelings. She thought she was alone, which was ridiculous. She doesn’t want Chase- or anyone- to ever feel the way she felt. So, she starts, “Um, y’know, when Amy died, it was...really hard. Like, really hard. I didn’t even feel like the same person. I barely ate, or talked. I felt like a whole other part of me was gone. So, um, I get it. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say, here. That I get it- but also...maybe don’t be me. I’m a bad example.”

 

Chase swallows, eyes on the road. “Were you ever- did you ever get mad at her?”

 

Her eyebrows go up. Not really where she thought this conversation was going to go, but alright. “Before I knew what happened? Sometimes. I didn’t- I didn’t understand how she could just leave me like that. All on my own. It felt like she did it on purpose.”

 

Chase is silent for a long moment, like he he can’t think of the right thing to say. Eventually, he responds, “That’s kind of how mom used to make me feel- just, like, all the time. My dad was a piece of shit, and we were- we were in the same boat, me and her. But it never felt that way. It felt like drowning in the middle of the ocean, every single day. There was no me and her. Just me. Just her. Maybe it’s not much at all like how you feel, to be honest. You were angry that Amy left you alone. I’m angry that Mom never- we were never together in the first place. And I feel so shit about it. It’s terrible to speak ill of the dead.”

 

“Not when the dead were terrible people.”  _ Nothing in his life became him like the leaving of it, _ wrote Shakespeare in Macbeth, not knowing that, like most of his balls to the walls dialogue, it would become incredibly applicable to Nico Minoru’s real world situations. 

 

Chase sighs. “Yeah. Yeah. I don’t think she was- I don’t think she was terrible, though. Dad fucked her over. It’s hard to be a good parent when the one who’s supposed to support you does everything in his power to hurt you. It’s hard to be a good anything.”

 

Nico looks over at him, watching his face. Taking in his set mouth, his eyes, still focused on the road in front of him but filled to the brim with sorrow. She’s suddenly struck by the feeling that she’s never understood who Chase is as a person until now. Better late than never, maybe. “Victor’s a real piece of shit, huh?”

 

Chase shakes his head. “You don’t know the half of it.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

He blinks, surprised. “Oh. Okay. Um. Well, I guess a good place to start is the ending, or at least the right now. Starting a story from the beginning is so boring.” Of course he would say that. “The right now is that I think my dad and Jonah, like, fused brains. Because I know- I know Xavin says that my dad is his new host, and I have no doubt that they’re right. But at the Ball- that was my dad. I know it was. I think he and Jonah are just so similar that it all just melded together- that’s the only way I can make sense of it. If this was a month ago, I would’ve clung to the whole Jonah thing- I would’ve latched onto it and never let go. I don’t know when I started making so many excuses for him-  _ no, he didn’t mean to hit me, no, he loves me, really-” _ Jesus fucking Christ. Jesus fucking Christ, she’s going to have to murder another of Jonah’s hosts, huh? “but I’m glad I stopped. Even though it hurts, because it’s basically feels like giving up on him. But I think- I think if I had held on to it any longer, it might’ve killed me. I was hanging over the edge of a cliff with one desperate hand, and he was stepping on my fingers. I had to let go and see what was at the bottom. And you know what I found when I did?”

 

For the first time since the start of this conversation, he meets her eyes. He seems melancholic, but there’s hope there, too. Softly, Nico asks, “What was it?”

 

“A soft place to land.”

 

**__________**

 

There’s somebody singing in the kitchen right now, and Molly has no idea who it is. Logically, she knows it’s a guys voice, but past that…

 

 _“suis-je la fleur de lune_ _  
__ou bien l'eau qui dort_ _  
__je suis née dans une brume_ _  
__là où le vent vient du nord_ _  
__suis-je l'herbe sauvage_ _  
__ou le ciel de pluie_ _  
__viens te prendre à mon mirage_ _  
___te noyer dans mes yeux gris.”

 

She doesn’t know the language- french, maybe?- but she knows that it’s pretty. Gert says that French sounds like a bulldog choking on piece of plastic, but she likes it well enough, especially in music. And, besides, Gert  _ speaks  _ French, so maybe she could keep her mouth shut.

 

The voice is kind of beautiful, in that way that a well-crafted chair is beautiful, or maybe a ghost. Pretty in a hidden kind of way, and sad, too. Though she doesn’t understand the lyrics, they haunt her; settling deep into her bones.

 

 _“Ou que tu sois je t'appelle_ _  
__je sais que tu m'entends_ _  
__je sais qu'il faudra que tu viennes_ _  
__ma cage est grande ouverte et ma prison t'attends_ _  
__suis-je l'étoile ou l'algue_ _  
__suis-je le faut semblant_ _  
__viens t'enrouler dans mes vagues_ _  
___elles ont comme un goût de sang.”

 

Realizing that it’s probably creepy of her to be listening from out here, Molly enters the kitchen, knowing on the side of the doorway. “Hey.”

 

She should’ve guessed it was Chase, if only from the voice- Alex is a crooner, and the only language he ever bothered to learn was Spanish because his grandmother forced him to. But singing has never seemed like Chase’s thing, and neither has any sort of proficiency in another language. Or even baking, which seems to be what he’s doing right now. At the sound of her voice, he turns, blushing a little. “Um, hey.”

 

“Whatcha making?” She asks, leaning against the counter. Now that she’s got a full scope of the room, she notices that Chase isn’t just baking, he’s making enough pie to feed the entire tri-state area. “Oh, damn, that’s a lot of apple pie, dude.”

 

“Is it?” He asks passively as he robotically chops up yet another apple. “Also, it’s not apple pie, it’s tarte tatin.”

 

Her brows crease. “What’s the difference?”

 

“Well, first of all, tarte tatin is French, which already makes it ten times better than anything America could even think to come up with.” _ Okay, elitist. _

 

“Uh, the American Revolution says hello.”

 

“And so do guillotines.” They make eye contact, and immediately burst into giggles. Country vs country is the stupidest argument alive, and they both know it. Once they’ve calmed down, Chase says, “Another- another difference is that tarte tatin has a different type of crust, and it’s not served directly from the dish the way pie is, which I think is smart, because it makes clean-up easier and faster. They’re also typically more shallow, which- okay, your eyes are glazing over, I’m gonna shut up now.”

 

“No, I’m listening!” Molly lies, jumping off the counter and all but rushing to his side. This is the most he’s talked to her in days, she doesn’t want to lose that. “Tell me more about why you like French apple pie.”

 

Chase lets out a small, exasperated sigh. “It’s not- never mind.”

 

“Since when do you speak French, anyway?” This is new information, and as a verified Sleuth, Molly is almost obligated to investigate. 

 

“Since forever. My mom, she, um, she made me learn when I was little. And it’s kind of like riding a bike, I guess...just like making tarte tatin.”

 

Something in her softens. “Did she teach you? How to make it?”

 

Avoiding eye contact, Chase nods. “Yeah. Every Sunday when I was a kid, we’d make it together. It was tradition. But I- I forgot how, which is why I keep doing this over and over. I forgot a lot of the good stuff, I think. I just wanted to be angry, because that’s easier than being sad.”

 

“A lot of things are. Some people would rather do anything else in the world than admit that they’re sad.” She’s thinking of her sister, and she knows that Chase is Also thinking of her sister, but neither of them say it. It’s the type of thing you keep to yourself. 

 

Chase swallows. “Y’know, I don’t think I saw her cry even once. Not  _ once. _ I just- I wish I knew what I could’ve done. I wish I could go back and change things, make it all better. Fix it.”

 

Gently, she puts her hand on his arm. “Chase...that’s not your job, you know that, right?  _ She  _ was the parent. Not you.”

 

He sighs, looking down at the slice of apple in his hand. “Yeah. Yeah. Y’know, um...mom used to say, ‘you can’t make apple pie without making the universe’. I didn’t understand it then, but I think I do now. It’s- it’s a greater than the sum of your parts thing. And a science thing, probably. Biology and astrophysics were always more her style. I just like machines.”

 

Molly nods, not totally understanding but knowing that he needs to talk about it. “Hey, do you mind if I stay and help? You can tell me more about her while we work, if you want.”

 

Chase smiles, soft and thankful. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

 

**__________**

 

“Um, hey.”

 

Chase, who’d been crying to himself over a half empty plate of what seems to be apple pie, looks up, hastily wiping his eyes. “Oh, um, hi, Karolina. What’s up? Do you need anything?”

 

The comment rankles on her, though she knows he’s just being sweet. She can seek someone out for something other than asking for their help! She’s not  _ that  _ self-centered, is she? Okay, maybe she was a little self-centered, but she’s not anymore, she promises. Or is at least trying not to be. And putting the effort in is what counts, she thinks. 

 

“No, I- I was actually seeing if you needed anything.” Cautiously, she approaches, sitting down at the table in the chair beside him. “We’ve all been, y’know, worried. Obviously. I mean, finding out your mom is dead-”

 

“Yeah, I know it sucks, Karolina.” Okay, that was certainly a Tone. Did she do something? Chase sighs, running a hand down his face. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t rub it in my face, though. I can’t- I can’t do that right now.”

 

Karolina blinks, caught off guard.  _ Ouch.  _ “Is that- is that what you think I do? Rub things in your face?”

 

Chase makes a noncommittal gesture with his hand. Despite the three days of sleep, he looks incredibly tired. “I don’t know, sometimes. I’m not saying you’re, like, a bully, or something, because you’re not. You’re...you’re really nice, Karolina. I admire that.”

 

“...Thank you?”

 

Chase snorts. “Sorry. I think I just- I dunno. I feel weirdly alone, even though everybody’s been scrambling to be there for me. Like, lonely in a crowded room type stuff, y’know? I just- I miss her a lot, despite all that she did. And now I’m...I’m never gonna get another chance with her…”

 

“Oh, Chase…” Karolina says, patting him on the arm in the most comforting way she can manage. He’s full on crying, now, with the big, wet, tears she hasn’t seen from him since they were children. 

 

“My mom used to call me Chase…” he mumbles, sniffling, and Karolina blinks at him, flabbergasted.

 

“Because it’s your fucking name?” He looks up at her, glaring, and oh, right. Oops! “Um, sorry. But still. It’s not like it’s a nickname, or something.”

 

“Karolina, yes it is. Chase is my middle name, you knew this.”

 

Her eyes bug out. HUH? “I swear to all fuck that I literally didn't. What’s your first name?”

 

Chase closes his eyes and takes a long, slow, breath; like,  _ you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.  _ “It’s Victor.”

 

“Oof.”

 

“Yeah, oof. Oh my God, I just realized how weird it is that our dads are like. One whole person. Does that make us siblings?”

 

They both make an identically disgusted face. “Ew.”

 

“Yes, ew, I agree.”

 

She thinks for a moment, then says, “Hey, y’know what else we’ve got in common?”

 

He gives her a look, waiting. “What?”

 

“Shitty Dead Parent Club. That’s us, the Shitty Dead Parents Club.”

 

Chase snorts. “We should make t-shirts.  _ My Parents Fucked Me Over Then Died _ would be a good slogan, don’t you think?”

 

“Yes, or,  _ My Dad Manipulated Me And All I Got Was This Dumb T-Shirt.” _

 

Chase cracks up, and so does she, even though it wasn’t all that funny. Sometimes all you really need is a good laugh to help you face things. Sometimes all you need is a friend to laugh with you. 

 

Sometimes, it’s the only thing that helps you move forward.

 

**__________**

 

Eating together seems to be some kind of ritual for humans. He doesn’t fully understand it- shouldn’t the primary goal be to eat the most luscious of all foods? Shouldn’t the sustenance be high-quality and rare, like smoked Amebids, or aged Druff toenail? 

 

But, no, the height of luxury for humans seem to be pizza and apple pie. They’re all enjoying themselves immensely, laughing and talking and stretching their mouths wide-open.

 

**_It’s called smiling, freakazoid. Also, eat some pizza. We’re too skinny._ **

 

He rolls his eyes, at both the ‘insult’ and how much the host is starting to sound like someone’s grandmother.

 

**_HEY! FUCK YOU! I’M A PERFECTLY NORMAL-_ **

 

“Woah, Al, are you feeling okay?” The small one, Molly, asks when he winces. This host truly is a loudmouth.

 

**_Offensive, that’s offensive, I’m taking offense-_ **

 

“I’m fine, Molly.” He says, annoyed. This is now a frequent emotion, though it didn’t used to be. He used to be a prince, a highly revered strategist, he used to be loved by all his subjects, even the poor and ugly ones. He was good at lying and making it seem like he cared, even though he didn’t. That’s one of the fundamental skills as a royal- if you’re bad at lying they don’t let you go to any of the parties. And oh, how he loved the parties. Their chef always made the  _ best  _ Exolon shots- they’re nasty little things when they’re alive, being soul-eaters and all, but petrified and dyed fun colours? The best! And don’t get him started on Flora Colossus root. It was absolutely delightful when sprinkled with ground stardust, but ever since that one Guardian Of The Galaxy went and got famous they’ve been so hard to hunt. Oh, how he hates the so-called ‘Guardians’. What are you guarding,  _ Guardians? _ Fun? Joy? 

 

**_...Innocent people?_ **

 

“Shut up.”

 

He says it too loudly, and the whole table turns to him. Hurt, Karolina says, “Jeez, Alex, I was just going to say that I was excited for Boss Baby to come out on disc, there’s no need...I get it if you think it’s dumb to waste our money on it, but…”

 

“No, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t even- I wasn’t even paying attention. I was talking to myself. Be as excited as you want.”  _ Please don’t hate me you’re my sister if you hate me Father will be mad and he’ll say I’m fucking everything up when I’m trying my hardest I really am- _

 

“Okay!” She says, cheerful again as she goes back to her pizza. She’s pulled the cheese off of it and given it to Molly, which he doesn’t really understand.

 

“No, don’t be sorry, Alex, you were right,” Gert says in a teasing tone, “I mean, you could’ve said it a little nicer, but we were all thinking it.”

 

Karolina pouts in Gert’s direction, arms crossed. “And why’s that?”

 

Nico answers for her. “Because Boss Baby sucks, babe. I’m sorry, I know you tried to get me to watch it-”

 

“You said you liked it!”

 

“Because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings!”

 

Unexpectedly, Chase bursts out laughing at the other end of the table. “Sorry, sorry,” he starts, then trails off again as his words get swallowed by the giggles. “I just- I love you guys. I really, really love you guys.”

 

Oh, his heart hurts. His one, singular heart hurts, which is a little weird, because he used to have three. He misses his old body. He misses his family, too. It’s hard, to watch the lot of them pile in for a hug, knowing that he can’t do this with his own family. 

 

As he watches them all pile together, he gets up out of his chair, quiet as a mouse. He starts to leave, but before he can, Gert’s voice asks, “Hey, where are you going? Get in here, loser.”

 

Reluctantly, he joins the hug, wondering what it is Alexander did for these people that made him so worth loving. What did he do to earn it?

 

**_Nothing,_ ** the host’s voice says, unexpectedly solemn.  **_I just loved them with all my heart, and they loved me right back. That’s what a family is about. It’s unconditional. There are no rules and regulations for when you love them and why. You just do. You fall into it, just like any other type of love._ **

 

He scoffs internally, wishing he wasn’t tearing up.  _ That was...unexpectedly poetic. _

 

**_I dunno. I think that’s just how love is. Also, LET ME OUT-_ **

 

**__________**

 

“Hey,” Gert says, standing in the doorway of what was once her room but is now temporarily Chase’s. She wants to say it’s theirs, but she doesn’t know if she’s ready for that again just yet. “You wanna go for a drive?”

 

Chase looks up from the book he’d been reading, faced sleepy and happy for the first time in days. He’s wearing his glasses, the rectangular frames that make him look like a hot dad, and her traitorous heart starts to beat a little faster. “Where to?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I just thought it’d be nice to get out for a little while- I heard that there’s a meteor shower tonight? Maybe we could go watch?” She says it a little nervously, because when she came up with this idea, the first thing her brain thought of was,  _ this would be a fun date.  _ Of course, it’s not a date, it  _ can’t  _ be a date. She’s not ready for it to be a date. 

 

Doesn’t mean she doesn’t want it to be, though.

 

Chase grins, easy and soft, completely unaware of her internal meltdown. “That sounds fun. Let me get my stuff, and we can go, okay?”

 

~~~~~

 

Ten minutes later, they’re driving out of the Hostel and down the dark, bumpy road. 

 

Gert hasn’t been in this car- her father’s car- since she first got home, and it’s kind of screwing with her head. Chase insisted on driving, because he doesn’t trust her driving skills, even though he never says that’s why. She gets it, though. She kind of sucks at the driving thing. But sitting here, where she once sat all those weeks ago beside her father, is making her brain feel wonky. Like everything has shifted slightly to the left. 

 

“You okay?” Chase asks softly. “You seem a little…”

 

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just- this  _ car. _ Bad memories, I guess.”

 

Chase reaches over and covers her hand with his, and it’s supposed to be comforting, she knows it is. But all she can think about is the handcuff scars that rest just beneath his fingers. All she can think about is how she was handcuffed in this car, trapped, caged, with  _ him, _ who kept telling her it was for the best, that he was doing it to keep her safe, that it was-

 

“Okay, okay, you’re okay,” Chase says as he pulls off onto the side of the road, which is smart, because she’s having a legit, full blown panic attack now. “It’s gonna be okay, Gert, just breathe, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

 

She flips her hand up and tightens her grip, pulling her knees up to her chest and curling herself into a tiny little ball, trying to make herself as small as possible. Chase lets go of her hand, only to give her his other one to hold onto and ask, “Is it okay if I put my hand on your back?”

 

Gert nods, and Chase starts to move his hand up and down the length of her back soothingly. Softly, he starts to whisper reassurances. “You’re gonna be okay, Gert. You’re doing great. Just breathe, and you’ll get through this- we’ll get through this. I’m here. I’m always gonna be here. Just breathe.”

 

Eventually, she starts to calm down, comforted by the sound of his voice, gentle and encouraging. It takes a while for her to feel able to talk again, but when she does, she looks up at him and says, “Thanks. That was, um- thanks.”

 

“Anytime. Whenever you need me, I’m here. Okay?” 

 

“O-okay.” God, they’re so close right now. He’d taken off his seatbelt at some point, and he’s all but holding her. She leans into him a little- a lot. It’s a lot. Seeming a little surprised, Chase wraps his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

 

She feels so safe. She doesn’t know when Chase started to make her feel that way again. All she knows that being here in his arms feels like...like eating a spoonful of butterscotch pudding when she returned from school. Like being tucked in with the coziest blankets imaginable.

 

It feels like coming home.

 

And then there’s a  _ thunk  _ type noise in the backseat, and suddenly they’re not alone.

 

They spring apart, shocked into it by the two teenagers who have popped into existence. It’s not a difficult feat for Gert to recognize them, even in the dark. 

 

“Tandy, Ty! Oh my God, what are you-”

 

“Holy fuck, finally. We’ve been trying to find you forever, and we’d exhausted, like, all of our options, so Ty decided on the cross country trip, which was...a choice that has its pros and cons.” Tandy looks down at Ty, who’s leaning against her heavily with drooping eyes. “I told you this would wear you out, sleepyhead.”

 

“I’mmmm fiiiiiine,” Ty groans, fully curling up against Tandy’s shoulder. “Jus’ tiiiiired. Hi, Gert. Missed you.”

 

Oh, gosh, she can’t stop grinning. “I missed you, too. You guys really came looking for me?”

 

“Of course! We thought you were in trouble, so of course we did. You sent us scrambling with your little disappearing act, but we found you, and you look pretty safe, so I guess it’s alright. Who’s the guy?”

 

Oh, right, Chase. She kind of forgot about him for a second, is that bad? She turns to him, prepared to introduce him to the modern marvels that are Tandy Bowen and Ty Johnson, despite one wearing a white t-shirt with a depiction of Jesus on the crucifix and the words  _ The First T-Poser _ on it, and the other snoring loudly. Like, really loudly. 

 

But Chase doesn’t look her way. He’s completely focused on Tandy, like he’s seen her before, like he  _ knows  _ her. 

 

In typical Tandy fashion, she raises an eyebrow and says, “Hello? Can I help you?”

 

Chase swallows audibly, eyes still trained on her face. “You’re the girl from my dream.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. Then We Woke Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> visitors, crushes, and revelations.

As is maybe expected, the ride back to what Gert calls the Hostel is incredibly awkward. Fortunately, Ty is only half awake the entire time, so he can fade in and out of the conversation as Tandy does her best to explain why she showed up in Chase’s dream. At least, Ty assumes that he’s Chase. He seems like the type of guy whose name would be Chase, anyway- with the gelled hair and muscles and general frat boy energy. Also, as far as he knows, Gert only has two guy friends, and only one guy friend who she’d be cuddling with. 

 

Ty has somebody to cuddle with. She’s really good at it, too, all soft and warm and good-smelling. He thinks he heard Gert say something about reaching the Hostel soon, but he doesn’t even know if he wants to move. Tandy is so nice to snuggle up to, which is definitely cheesy but also definitely true. Her hair smells like roses, and he could probably stay here for hours if it was up to him.

 

Unfortunately, they’re only a minute away, and Tandy has finished explaining how Evita’s aunt taught them how to dreamwalk, which was ⅓ wonderful, ⅓ scary, and ⅓ extremely awkward, as things involving your ex-girlfriend’s aunt often are. Though they were unsuccessful in reaching Gert, it seems they were close...just not close enough. 

 

Chase pulls into the garage and parks, and Tandy pokes him on the cheek. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

 

“I’mmm noooot sleepiiiing,” he mumbles. “Jus’...resting.”

 

“Well, can you ‘rest’ somewhere other than my shoulder, please?”

 

He groans, and Gert reaches back to flick him on the arm. “Come on, get up. You’re not sleeping in the back of my car, there’s, like, bugs.”

 

If he really wanted to be contrarian, he could tell her about all the different species of insects at the church, but he should probably get up, now, so he’ll keep his mouth shut on that. Sitting up and stretching, he groans, “Alright, alright, I’m up.”

 

“Good, because I’m sure our friends are going to have something to say about you two clicking your heels together and chanting that ‘there’s no place like home.’”  _ Uh-oh, frat boy’s grumpy.  _

 

Gert elbows him, not at all subtly. “Hey, be nice.”

 

Chase sighs, and Gert pouts at him, which Ty is very, very glad to not be on the other end of. He and Tandy share A Look as Chase turns back and says, “I’m sorry. It’s very nice to meet the both of you, and I’m sure everyone else will feel the same.”

 

~~~~~

 

Everyone else does Not feel the same. Specifically, a short goth girl named Nico Minoru, who is Very Scary for her height, is not on board with the presence of Tandy and Ty. 

 

“Gert, we don’t even know them, like, what if-”

 

“Nico, do not say ‘what if they’re with PRIDE’. Look at them.  _ Look at them. _ Ty is snoring, and Tandy is shorter than I am.” Gert says, gesturing theatrically as she does so. He smiles a little to himself- though he’s tired, he’s so, so, glad that she’s okay. Both him and Tandy had been more than a little stressed out about it these past few weeks. Nothing like a distraught friend running out on you to send you into a tizzy.

 

Of course, their arrival at the Hostel was accompanied by an entirely separate tizzy, largely based in the fact that Gert was Not Joking when she said she had a pet dinosaur. It roared very, very loudly, and now Ty has dinosaur gunk on his favourite sweater. Gert calmed it down, though, and now it’s curled up against the foot of one of the armchairs.

 

“I resent the implication that my height makes me less dangerous. I am very dangerous. Ty, I’m dangerous, right?” She looks over at him with those big brown eyes of hers, pouting a little. 

 

_ You’re adorable, is what you are.  _ “Mm-hmm, yep. Very dangerous.”

 

She wrinkles her nose at him. “Wow, sincere.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Gert makes a gesture between them and Nico, as if this proves her point, and Nico holds up both her hands in defeat.

 

“If it helps, I’m on board,” says a dark haired girl who’s lounging on a fluffy armchair. When Ty looks over, she holds up a hand in greeting. “I’m Molly.”

 

“I’m Xavin, and I second this.” Just from looking at them, Ty can already tell that they’re going to be a Character. They’re wearing the wildest assortment of clothing Ty has ever seen, including gogo boots, a T-shirt with a pointing finger and the words  _ YOU’RE GAY,  _ and not to mention what seems to be a Burger King crown on their head. 

 

“I third this,” says a blonde girl in a fluffy pink bathrobe. Her hair is wet, and she’s got a towel around her shoulders. “Even if I got forced out of the shower when they showed up.”

 

“Sorry, Karrie, but thank you,” Gert says, then turns to Nico. “That’s four to one. We win.”

 

Chase holds up a hand. “Well-“

 

“You’re on my side,” Gert says, cutting him off, and Chase lowers his hand.

 

“I’m on your side.”  _ Whipped.  _ Not that Ty can say anything, though. And he and Tandy aren’t even dating, so maybe he’s worse. 

 

He  _ wants  _ to be dating her, sure, but he’s a big dumb coward who can’t make a move. And, besides, Tandy’s not into him like that, anyway. 

 

“I’m not on your side,” says who Ty can only assume it’s Alex- he remembers Gert telling him about him. Alex’s eyes are focused in on Tandy when he says, “No offense, but we’re not a halfway house.”

 

Gert scoffs. “God, I forgot you decided to pretend you have no empathy anymore. Whatever. They’re staying. No more arguing.”

 

Nico concedes, then, because it’s a universal truth that fighting with Gert when she’s decided she doesn’t want to is like running up an incredibly steep hill. 

 

“Good, great.” Gert turns to Ty and Tandy, hands on her hips. “Okay, gang, let’s find you a bedroom.”

 

~~~~~

 

So, there’s only one bed. There’s only one bed, and Ty is kind of freaking out. 

 

It’s not like they haven’t slept next to each other before. But there’s a big difference between falling asleep by accident on the floor of the church and actively deciding to sleep in the same bed.

 

“I can, um, I can sleep on the floor, if you want?”

 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tandy says, even though it’s clearly Not Fine. “It’s not like we haven’t- I mean, we’ve done this before, it’s not- it’s not a big deal.”

 

Except that it’s totally a big deal. 

 

“Just share the damn bed,” says a voice from the doorway, and they both turn around. Gert is standing there, a pile of blankets bundled in her arms. “You’re both being dramatic.”

Tandy stamps her foot. “I’m not dramatic!”

 

He and Gert share A Look, and Tandy scoffs. “You guys suck. Where’s the bathroom?”

 

“Down the hall and hang a left at the painting of the screaming clown.” They both look at her with wide eyes, and her brows crease. “What?”

 

“Nothing. I’ll...be back in a minute.” Tandy hurries out of the room like someone lit a fire under her ass, and Ty watches her go, letting out a lovesick sigh once she’s out the door.

 

Gert snorts as she shuffles past him to lay the pile of blankets on the bed. “You two are  _ not _ subtle.”

 

“Whatever. C’mere, will you? I think I deserve a hug after playing search party for weeks on end.”

 

Gert laughs a little, then closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around him. Ty rests his chin on the top of her head, holding her close. “We were really worried, y’know.”

 

“I didn’t, actually. I kind of- I kind of thought you guys would just forget about me.”

 

“Of course we wouldn’t forget about you, don’t be dumb.” Gert huffs a laugh, and he continues, “What even- what happened to you, anyways? Did he find you?”

 

Gert swallows. “Yeah. Yeah, he did. But I...I got away.”

 

Her voice cracks on the last word, and he looks down at her, a concerned frown on his face. “How…”

 

Gert presses her face into his shoulder, then says, muffled, “Well, um, so, my parents are- were?- scientists, right? And their big achievement, their magnum opus...is a mindwipe serum. Dear old Dad happened to bring along a syringe full of it as a contingency plan, and...well. I...I managed to get my hands on it. I’m- I’m not proud of it, Ty-“

 

“But it was necessary.” Though it’s a shock to hear that she would go that far, Ty knows all about extremes and their consequences. Hell, he and Tandy  _ are _ extremes- two completely different sides of the spectrum in every single way. Somehow, though...they work.

 

Gert sighs, heavy and worn out. “Just- just don’t tell anybody, okay?”

 

He raises an eyebrow. “Not even Tandy? You know how she is.”

 

Gert looks up at him, biting her lip. “You trust her, right?”

 

Ty blinks, trying to imagine a world where he’d do anything but. “Of course.”

 

“Then...okay. But don’t tell anybody else, alright? I don’t- I don’t want anyone to know. They...they wouldn’t understand. Hell,  _ I  _ barely understand.”

 

Ty rubs his hand up and down her back, trying to comfort her. “I won’t tell. Don’t worry, I’m good with secrets.”

 

“What secrets?” Tandy’s voice asks from the doorway, and he and Gert pull apart almost immediately. Though they weren’t doing anything wrong- not to mention that he doesn’t even  _ like  _ Gert that way- he still feels caught in the act.

 

“Um, nothing. I’m gonna go,” Gert says, blushing. “See ya.”

 

She rushes out of the room, leaving Ty alone to face Tandy the Tyrant.

 

“So, um, what was that about?” Oh, she’s not mad. She actually looks kind of upset- and she won’t look at him. Like, maximum avoidance of eye contact.

 

“It was just a hug, Dee-Dee. Y’know, between friends?” She still won’t look at him.

 

“Okay. Anyway, you can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.” She grabs the blankets Gert brought in and starts fluffing them out angrily, like they’ve wronged her personally.

 

“Tandy-“

 

“Nope. I’m not-“ 

 

He closes the distance between them and puts his hand on her arm.  _ “Tandy.” _

 

She stops, then, meeting his eyes. “I really- I really don’t care, Ty. Date who you want.”

 

His jaw clenches. “Is that how you really feel?”

 

“Y-yes. It is.”  _ Liar. _

 

Ty sighs, letting his hand fall from her arm and stepping back. “Fine. Fine. But just so you know? I don’t like her that way. I- I like somebody else.”

 

_ Ask me who ask me who ask me who!  _ “Oh. That’s nice.”

 

He suppresses another sigh, then says, “Yeah. Now, give me the blanket.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“You really think I’m gonna let you sleep on the floor? It’s just- it’s just sleeping, right? It’s not a big deal if we share.”  _ Yes it is. It’s a very, very big deal. _

 

Tandy swallows. “You’re right. I was being dramatic, it’s- it’s fine.”

 

She makes her way to the left side of the bed, and they both sit down on opposite sides. It’s awkward. Neither of them get under the covers, just sit in silence and twiddle their thumbs. 

 

“Are you gonna…?”

 

“...Are you?”

 

Tandy swallows. “Sure. Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

 

She pulls back the blankets and lies down, and Ty follows her lead. He lies stiff as a board for awhile, unsure of what to do. It’s so quiet, the only noise in the room the sound of her breathing and the rattle of the wind.

 

Tandy’s hand creeps over to his, timidly interlocking her fingers with his. In a soft, nervous kind of voice, she whispers, “This is nice.”

 

He squeezes her hand, smiling in the dark. “Yeah. It is.”

 

**__________**

 

Molly hates the smell of hair dye. 

 

It’s acidic and sulfurous and terrible, and she’s sure that all of Gert’s hair is going to just melt off one day because of it. She’s not sure why exactly she agreed to help Gert dye her hair when she asked that morning, only that she did, and that she regrets it immensely. Her hands are going to smell like burning rotten eggs all day, even with the gloves. 

 

At least she gets to spend some alone time with her sister while she works, though. Now she gets an opportunity to bring up the mystery that is Storkes (their ship name, because she’s creative like that)- subtly, of course. She considers herself quite talented in being a sneak, honestly, and she’s desperate for deets, for  _ context- _ why did they go out together last night? Was she dreaming when she saw Chase and Gert leaving their old bedroom this morning?

 

As she works the hair dye through her sister’s hair with the color brush, she clears her throat, drawing Gert’s attention away from her reflection in the vanity mirror. In a careful tone, Molly starts, “So, what’s up with you and Chase, lately?”

 

Gert’s cheeks colour, turning a deep red. “Um, y’know, nothing much. We’re, um, we’re friends, nothing’s changed. It’s all very...platonic.”

 

“Hmm, okay. But then, why were you guys all alone together last night- y’know, when Tandy and Ty showed up?’

 

“Uh-uhmm,” she stutters, “we just went for a drive. We were, um, we were gonna go watch the meteor shower, but Ty and Tandy kinda threw a wrench in our plans. Not that it- not that it was a real plan, or anything. Just a, um, spur of the moment type of thing.”

 

Molly giggles a little. “You two seem to be having a lot of those, lately.”

 

Gert glares at her through the mirror. “Okay, buzz off, now. We’re- we’re just friends, and I’m...I’m happy with that. I really am, Molls- at least for now, y’know? Whatever it is that we are, it’s so much different than what we used to be- so much  _ better.” _

 

“What changed?”

 

Gert thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs. “I guess we did. We...we grew up a little, too. No more fighting all the time- or at least, I hope so.”

 

Molly swallows, realizing what a perfect opportunity this is to get some  _ real  _ secrets out in the open. “Um, you wanna know what  _ I  _ hope?” 

 

Her sister blinks, surprised. “Sure. What do you hope, Molly?”

 

“That you’d tell me where you were all that time. Y’know, before.” She doesn’t make eye contact as she mumbles the words, in fact, she goes out of her way to avoid it. She doesn’t want to see the look on Gert’s face.

 

She hears her sister swallow. “I can assure you that you don’t want to know.”

 

Molly peels off the gloves- she’s finished applying the dye, now, and all there’s left to do is wait- then says, voice serious, “I can assure you that I do.”

 

“Don’t throw my words back at me.”

 

Molly cocks her head. “Don’t change the subject and we’ve got a deal.”

 

Gert sighs, then turns around on the bench to face her. She sits in a slouched position, and with the drenched, slimey hair, and the too-big button up over short shorts that she’s wearing to avoid getting any of her nice clothes dirty, she kind of looks like a bog witch from hell.

 

She also looks very, very tired.

 

It’s weird to see her like this, see her when she’s not putting on a face for someone else. When she’s not pretending. Gert pretends a lot, Molly’s noticed- not that she knows what it is exactly that she’s put up those imaginary walls around to protect; only that they’re there. 

 

In a slow kind of voice, Gert says, “It will only hurt you- knowing, I mean.”

 

Molly crouches down, reaching to touch her sister’s hand. “I’m stronger than you think, Gert.”

 

She shakes her head. “It’s not about strength, Molls. You’re the strongest person I know. But this will change things. And I don’t-” she swallows, trying and failing to rid her voice of its miserable tone, “I don’t want you to think less of me, Molly. I don’t want you to- I don’t...I…”

 

Gert trails off, like she doesn’t know what to say. Finally, in a small, terrible voice, she admits, “I don’t want you to hate me.”

 

She swallows, forcing herself not to yell and scream about how impossible even the notion of that statement is. “I could never. You’re my sister, I could never hate you, no matter what happened-”

 

“I was with Dad,” blurts her sister. “I was with Dad, and- and the only way I could escape was…well, anyway, it was bad. So. yeah. That’s where I was- you happy now?”

 

Oh, no. Oh, no, Gert is crying, and Molly is about to cry, too, and everything about this is bad, bad, bad. How could she have been with Dale? How could he have done that- taken her away from Molly? How could he be so selfish, so cruel? 

 

Molly shakes her head, wiping messily at her eyes. “No, I’m- I’m not  _ happy  _ to know he would do that. But th-thank you.”

 

Gert frowns, confused. “For what?”

 

“Your honesty.” 

 

It’s a little silly, maybe, to thank Gert for telling the truth after more than a month of subtle begging, but she needs to say it, anyway. Sometimes things that seem bizarre are the only things that end up mattering, in the end. And from the way that Gert’s grip tightens on her hand, Molly can tell that her sister agrees.

 

~~~~~

 

Oh, no. Oh, no, Molly is Not a fan of this. Tandy Bowen, aka the prettiest girl alive, has just walked in on her crying, and Molly has never been so embarrassed in her life.

 

She didn’t mean for the tears to fall, but thinking of what happened this morning, of learning where Gert had been all that time...she’d been able to save face in the moment, but now, it’s broken her. So for the past little while, she’s been curled up on the couch in one of the more hidden away rooms, sobbing like a little baby. She had thought that this would be a good place to get her emotions out where no one could find her, but evidently, she was wrong.

 

“Woah, are you okay? What’s wrong, kid?” Tandy looks more than a little uncomfortable- like the last thing she knows how to deal with is a crying fifteen year old. Fair, honestly- Molly wouldn’t know what to do in her shoes, either.

 

She wipes hastily at her eyes, sitting up stick straight. “Nothing, nothing, I’m- I’m fine, I promise.”

 

Tandy raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Okay, liar. Now, tell me the  _ actual  _ truth?”

 

_ Damn.  _ Molly scooches over on the couch as Tandy plops down beside her, waiting. If she wasn’t so emotional right now, she’d probably be more than a little flustered- on Tandy, blunt is  _ hot. _

 

“Come on, I haven’t got all day,” Tandy starts, making a goading hand motion. Molly crosses her arms, feeling like she’s just been pushed into the hot seat- and then Tandy’s face softens. “I’m sorry. I’m- I’m not so great at this whole ‘being nice’ thing.”

 

Molly gives her a small smile. “I think Ty would disagree. He probably believes the moon was hung up just to please you.”

 

Tandy’s face turns red, and she mutters, “You and your sister, always up in my business.”

 

At  _ sister, _ Molly stiffens, and Tandy’s eyebrows go up again. “Is that what...this...is about? Did you two have some sort of fight?”

 

Molly shakes her head. “No. No, we didn’t. We just...um...she told me where she was all that time? How- well, I guess you would know better than I would.”

 

Tandy nods, patting her on the shoulder a bit awkwardly. “Yeah, I do. Fathers suck, huh?”

 

Molly sighs. “Big time. At least- at least she got away, though. At least she’s safe.”

 

Tandy nods slowly, then replies, “Pretty fucked up  _ how  _ she got away, though.”

 

She frowns. How does Tandy even know? Why would Gert tell her and not Molly? “Say that again?”

 

Tandy frowns. “Y’know, how she stuck her dad through with a needle full that mindwipe serum stuff? Ty- Ty told me about it. He said...oh, no. I thought...oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh,  _ shit.” _

 

This aggravating repetition is most likely due to the fact that Molly is on the verge of a panic attack right now- there’s no way that’s true, is it? Gert wouldn’t have done that- couldn’t have done that. Gert is good and reliable and kind, and she  _ wouldn’t do that.  _ “You’re lying. You’re  _ lying.” _

 

Tandy stands abruptly, seeming regretful. “I’m- I’ve got to go. Um, sorry. Bye.”

 

She rushes out of the room, leaving Molly to stare after her, enraged and confused and feeling like she might puke. It  _ can’t  _ be true- Gert would never do that. She must have escaped some other way- yes, for sure, Tandy is just lying, she’s a liar. 

 

Or, at least, that’s what Molly will tell herself.

 

**__________**

 

He’s so sick of this place. First having to interact with these ingrates, and then the Wonder Twins show up acting like they own the place. Not to mention that the blonde one could potentially completely fuck him over with those energy knives of hers, and he doesn’t care for that shit at all. 

 

So, he’s leaving. He’s going to call his sister and tell her to meet him somewhere, and he’s leaving. He’s not even going to bring clothes or supplies or anything- when you’re going to live with kings, you have no need for Star Wars graphic t-shirts and dollar store flashlights. 

 

He should bring a coat, though. He gets cold annoyingly easily in this weak form, not to mention the need to hide the way his skin is rotting. His family is facing a similar affliction, so he has no need to keep the secret from them, but he hates the way it looks. 

 

He’s just picking out a jacket from the closet when there’s a noise behind him, and he whips around. One of the Wonder Twins- the male, Tyrone- is standing there, looking sleepy and confused. “Alex? Where are you going?”

 

_ Shit. _ “Oh, nowhere, I’m just checking our inventory. You know how it is.”

 

Tyrone wrinkles his nose. “No, not really. I’ve only got a sleeping bag and a few sets of clothes to my name, man. Being a fugitive, and everything.”

 

“Ah. I know how that feels. Persecution is no stranger to us.” 

 

Ty squints at him a little. “Uhh, okay. Are you good?”

 

“Yes, I’m fine. Why?”

 

Tyrone shakes his head, mumbling something unintelligible about rich kids. “Nothing, never mind. I’m just tired.”

 

“You’ve been asleep all day, how could you possibly be tired?”

 

Tyrone shrugs, ambling over to him with his hands in his pockets. “I think it’s some mystic bullshit. I stretched myself too far, probably. Worth it, though.”

 

His brows crease. “You only knew Gertrude for a short time. Why did you come after her the way you did?”

 

“You wouldn’t?” The judgement in Tyrone’s voice is abundant, and his cheeks heat up. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be a family, or some shit?”

 

“We are! And o-of course I would. Of  _ course  _ I would.” He’s not usually so skilled at lying, so he’s almost surprised with himself- but maybe it’s because what he’s saying isn’t totally untrue. He doesn’t know why, but he feels some kind of connection to Gertrude- the same kind of connection he feels with Karolina. Which is completely insane, because as far as he knows, Gertrude is 100% flesh and blood human. But everything has been kind of insane, lately.

 

Tyrone’s eyebrows go up. “If you’re sure. But, anyway, there wasn’t really any other option, for us. We knew we had to help her, had to make sure she was safe.”

 

He smirks, amused. “You two sure use the word ‘we’ a lot for two people who claim not to be dating.”

 

Tyrone swallows, looking away. “Yeah, well, that’s a whole other thing all together, now, isn’t it?”

 

He shrugs. “Seems to be. I tried to ask your girl, but it ended in-”

 

“Tandy isn’t my girl.”  _ Ohh, somebody’s uncomfortable. _ “I mean- I want her to be, man, do I want her to be. But she’s not. So. I guess that’s that, then.”

 

He claps Tyrone on the shoulder, aiming for sympathetic but unsure of whether he succeeds or not. “I guess it is.”

 

**__________**

 

This is stupid. This is stupid, and Gert shouldn’t be doing this. She did it last night, because she was sleepy and had a headache, but she can’t do it again. No way. Nope. 

 

Except that she’s totally doing it, because her impulse control when it comes to Chase is at a level of negative twelve. 

 

‘It’, of course, being sleeping in the same bed as him. It’s her room, so, really, if she wanted to sleep here, she could just kick him out, but that’s not the point. The point is that she hates sleeping alone, and that conversation with Molly today was  _ terrible, _ so is it so bad to seek out some comfort? And...she kind of likes waking up next to him, okay? It’s nice.

 

So she knocks on the door to her bedroom, opening the door when he calls for her to come in. When he sees who’s at the door, Chase starts a little. “Oh, hey.”

 

“Hey. Is it cool if I sleep here?” She already feels much too silly. She’s drowning in these pyjamas, too- she must look like some sort of child. 

 

Chase gets this cautious little smile on his face, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Like, with me? Or do you want me to-”

 

“No, with you. If that’s...okay. I know, um, last night, it was, but that kind of just, like, happened, so…” Gert hates how she’s talking about this. It’s not like they had sex, or something. 

 

Chase huffs a laugh. “Why are you acting like I’m going to say no?”

 

“I dunno,” she mumbles, closing the door behind her as she makes her way over to the bed. She plops down on her side, stretching out with a groan. “You’re, like, emotionally volatile right now. I’m trying to be nice, give me a break.”

 

He looks down at her, amused. “I am not emotionally volatile.”

 

“‘I am not emotionally volatile’,” she says, in a very shitty impression of his voice. “Don’t be dumb. You’re allowed to be emotionally volatile when shitty things happen, it’s the only benefit to having shitty things happen. I speak from experience.”

 

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head and turning back to the book he’d been reading. Because she’s needy and annoying, Gert shifts to curl up against his shoulder. Slightly muffled from half her face being pressed into his t-shirt, she asks, “Whatcha reading?”

 

_ “A Wrinkle In Time.  _ I found it on one of the shelves earlier, and I had this, like, vivid memory of my mom reading it to me when I was a kid, so I guess I’m rereading.”

 

“Makes sense. It’s a good book.” She snuggles closer, feeling sleepier by the second. He’s so warm.

 

“It is. Hey, is that my shirt?”

 

She looks down at it with bleary eyes, realizing it’s part of her wide collection of Chase’s clothes that she accosted when he left. “Oh. Yeah. You’re not getting it back, though.”

 

Chase shifts to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer, resting his chin on top of her head. “That’s okay. Wait, is that where the rest of my clothes went, too? Thief.”

 

“You caught me. Call it reparations.” Oh, she’s so sleepy, now. She’s sleepy and comfortable and time feels like a thick purple jelly. “Chase, will you read to me?”

 

She loves his reading voice. It’s not particularly spectacular- there’s no theatrics, or anything. But the way he reads aloud is so careful and soothing, she just loves the sound of it.

 

Chase pauses for a moment, caught off guard, then says, “Sure. Do you want me to start from the beginning?”

 

“Sounds good to me.”

 

He flicks back through the pages, then clears his throat and starts,  _ “Chapter One: Mrs Whatsit. It was a dark and stormy night. In her attic bedroom Margaret Murry, wrapped in an old patchwork quilt, sat on the foot of her bed and watched the trees tossing in the frenzied lashing of the wind…”  _

 

~~~~~

 

_ But, dad, didn’t you say you  _ **_wanted_ ** _ to forget? _

 

_ But, dad, didn’t you say you  _ **_wanted_ ** _ to forget? _

 

_ But, dad- _

 

Gert wakes up in a cold sweat. She  _ hates  _ that dream, and yet it plagues her constantly. Even during the day, sometimes. She’s unsurprised that she had it tonight- between telling Molly the truth about where she was and the fact that her sister has been avoiding her all day, it’s been at the forefront of her mind.

 

Arms shaking, Gert pushes herself into a sitting position. She feels like she’s going to be sick. The guilt claws at her, needle sharp and dipped in venom. Stomach churning, she reaches over to the side table with a jittering hand, grateful for Chase’s collection of half empty water bottles that sit there. If she didn’t feel like vomiting, she’d probably wake him up just to make him pick up after himself. 

 

She curls herself into a tiny little ball, trying to squeeze out the guilt and pain and self-loathing and failing miserably. Objectively, Gert is a terrible person. This isn’t something one can debate. Once you do what she’s done, that’s it. There’s no redemption, no forgiving yourself. No matter how many times she or anyone else says that it was necessary, that she  _ had  _ to, it’s never going to change what happened. It’s never going to change that she took someone’s life away, took her  _ father’s  _ life away. Even if he was a liar and a coward, the pain still weighs on her like a ton of bricks. 

 

Gert wonders if this is what it feels like to be a corpse. To know you’re rotting from the inside out. To feel the maggots in your eye sockets and the worms crawling in your ears, powerless to stop it. You’re stuck in that damned coffin for all of eternity. Even when you’re nothing but bones and a few tattered grey rags that were once your favorite dress. 

 

It’s a slow decay, the kind where you can go about your business and ignore it, pretend it’s not happening, but decay all the same. The earth knows what you’ve done and how you got there, and she’s got no issue taking you back, no matter how long it takes. No matter how hard you fight. You still end up in the ground, at the end of things. There’s no escaping fate. The world is impartial- the only thing it cares about is balance. And Gert tipped the scales just a little bit too much. 

  
  


“Gert?”  _ Shit. _ “What are you doing up?”

 

She swallows, throat scratchy and dry. “I’m not. You’re dreaming. Go back to sleep.” 

 

“That doesn’t work with me, come on, you know this.” He shifts to sit up, leaning back against the headboard. Cautiously, he reaches for her hand, but Gert flinches away before he can touch her. She regrets it immediately. “...You wanna talk about it?”

 

Gert tugs at her left earlobe, and though she can barely feel it, it’s still comforting. Quietly, she asks, “Where do you think we go when we die?”

 

He makes a small, surprised noise. “What, like, the Pearly Gates and all that shit?”

 

“Ew, no. Not- no.” She’s still speaking in a small, vulnerable kind of voice, and she wishes she was able to stop. But she just doesn’t have the strength right now. “Christianity is so black and white with that. You do good, heaven; you do bad, hell. But that’s- that’s not what I’m asking. What I’m asking is what you think happens. What does it...how does it feel to die?”

 

She hates how scared she sounds, like some little girl crying lost in the grocery store. But maybe that’s just what she looks like on the inside, when all the defensive layers are peeled back.

 

Chase sighs, a heavy, pensive thing. “It might surprise you, but I think about this a lot. Think about how it’ll happen and why and who will cause it- if it’ll be unwittingly my own doing, or a fluke, or someone else delivering the killing blow. But I- I don’t really think about the after. I just hope for peace, hope to feel calm, hope to be with the ones I love.”

 

She smirks a little. “What, just one big party in the afterlife?”

 

He shakes his head. “No, more like seeing my mom again.”

 

Her shoulders drop. “Right. Sorry.” 

 

“It’s okay. Don’t- don’t worry about it.”

 

“Of course I’m going to worry about it.” It comes out rushed, more intense than she’d meant it to be. “It’s  _ you. _ I’m always worried about you.”

 

It’s not an  _ I love you. _ It’s not an  _ I love you, _ but it feels like one. Or half of one, anyway. She’s looking at him, and he’s looking at her, and it feels like one. Here in the dark, with only the moon to light up the angles of his face, exquisite and beautiful and a thousand other words, it feels like one. 

 

“I’m always worried about you, too. Like,  _ all  _ the time.” He reaches for her hand again, and this time, she lets him take it. “Sometimes I worry about you so much my stomach hurts.”

 

They both laugh a little, and Gert mumbles, “Sorry for the bellyache.”

 

“Nah, it’s worth it.” He squeezes her hand, leaning in a little. “You’re- you’re always gonna be worth it, Gert. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear before, and I’m- I’m just  _ sorry.” _

 

Gert reaches over and wraps both her hands around his. “I know. I know you are.”

 

Chase swallows, seeming nervous. Cautiously, he reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. His thumb brushes against her cheek, and her eyes fall closed. 

 

“Do you wanna talk about that nightmare, now?” Gert groans, rolling her eyes, and he huffs a laugh. “Thought I forgot about that, huh?”

 

“I was hoping. It’s just- it’s bad. You’ll get mad at me.” She tugs at her earlobe, looking away from him.

 

Chase shakes his head, confused. “Hey, no, why would I get mad?”

 

“Because it’s, um, it’s about my dad. And  _ last _ time-“

 

“Last time, I was trying to convince you that what you did was necessary. And, come on, I lost a parent too, Gert.”

 

“You didn’t  _ kill _ your mom, Chase.” 

 

The entire room goes dead silent, like all the air got sucked out. She regrets her words as soon as they leave her mouth, but there’s no taking it back, now. Not when they’re both frozen in place, all but unable to move. 

 

Gert swallows, then croaks, “Well, that was a shitty thing to say. I’m sorry-”

 

“You think you killed your dad?”

 

Oh, no. He pities her. This is worse than him being offended, maybe, because now she has to talk about her  _ feelings.  _ She lets go of his hand and crosses her arms, turning away from him. “I don’t think, Chase. I know. Even if he’s not in the ground, my father is still dead. Losing every memory you ever made, losing every  _ facet  _ of who you are in just one moment- that’s death. And I caused it. I don’t care if it was necessary, I don’t care if there were no other options- I killed him. And now...now I pay the price, I guess.”

 

“...The price?”

 

Gert lets out a long, slow, sigh. “Yes, the price. Everything comes with a price, especially when you fuck with the order of things. My price, my personalized stack of forest green paper bills; it’s- it’s being safe without feeling safe. It’s constant unease, it’s rotting from the inside out. I’m decaying, Chase. I’m  _ decaying.” _

 

Gert can’t look at him. She can’t. Because if she does, all she’s going to see is the pity in his eyes, overflowing with unwanted sympathy. She shouldn’t have said anything. He’s going to treat her like some fragile little teacup, now, and it all could’ve been avoided if she hadn’t said anything. But Gert has always been terrible at keeping her mouth shut.

 

So she sits there with her eyes squeezed closed, waiting for the objections or sympathies or what-have-yous. But none of that comes. Instead, Chase lays a gentle hand on her shoulder, not speaking a word. It’s grounding, like his touch tethered her to reality once more- like he shifted the camera lens and everything focused. She didn’t know she’d been so disconnected until now.

 

Gert reaches up and covers his hand with hers, not turning around. Tears start to roll down her cheeks, silent and overdue. Eventually, she can’t stop the miserable, choked sobs from escaping her mouth, and Chase starts, in a low, gentle tone, “Do you want-”

 

She’s nodding before he even finishes the sentence, turning around and all but collapsing against him. She doesn’t know how he was going to finish the question, but she knows the answer is yes. Chase is holding her in his arms, strong and safe and comforting, and she just wants, wants,  _ wants. _

 

**__________**

 

Nico feels on edge. To be fair, she usually feels on edge- a consequence of being a runaway. But having Ty and Tandy around has amped it up to eleven. It’s not that she doesn’t think they’re decent people- but they’re just not  _ family.  _ And Nico has learned the hard way that the only people she can even remotely trust are her friends, so Ty and Tandy just don’t fit the criteria. 

 

Restless, Nico presses a kiss to a sleeping Karolina’s cheek and rolls out of bed, resolving to confront Gert about this. It may be only eight o’clock in the morning, but if Nico is losing sleep over this, then Gert should, too. Call it forced karma.

 

She stomps her way to Gert’s bedroom, a woman on a mission. Nico raps sharply on the door, and, when Gert doesn’t respond, turns the knob, pushing it open.

 

And that’s when every ounce of anger drains out of her. She doesn’t mean for it to, but it all gets replaced by extreme, overwhelming shock at what she’s seeing right now. 

 

Gert and Chase are snuggled up in bed, looking for all the world like two young lovers in some romcom, and Nico almost wants to laugh out loud. Oh, this is perfect, isn’t it? Not only that, but it’s blackmail material for the ages- they’re asleep, too, if she only had her phone on her she’d definitely take a picture to commemorate the absolute fucking absurdity of this moment. 

 

Nico didn’t think it would take all that long for them to grow up and admit they’re in love with each other, but she also didn’t think it would happen when Gert had just brought some guy to the Hostel whose relationship with her is ambiguous at best. Or, at least, it would be if you’re Chase- anyone with eyes that aren’t slime green can tell that Ty is head over heels for Tandy.

 

Pointedly, Nico clears her throat. No dice. She does it again, and Gert stirs, groaning, “Screw off, I’m sleeping.”

 

“Actually-” she starts, and Gert immediately springs into a sitting position, eyes wide. Chase, who is very firmly pro-sleeping in, groans, shifting to wrap his arm around Gert’s waist in a move so domestic and sappy that Nico really might crack up. 

 

As Gert tries to figure out what to say, Nico stands in the doorway with her hands on her hips, eyebrows creeping up her forehead. An amused smile twitches on her lips as Gert finally decides on, “Um, it’s not what you think.”

 

Nico snorts. “Isn’t it?”

 

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean- oh screw off, Minoru!”

 

Nico bursts out laughing, giggling so much that her sides start to hurt. “So, are you guys, like-” she cuts herself off with more laughter, then continues, “Are you guys back together, now?”

 

Her expression changes, and Nico sobers up immediately. Absently, Gert runs her hand over Chase’s hair, saying, “No, we’re not.”

 

Her brows crease. “You’re literally cuddling.”

 

“And?” Gert sighs, seeming to know how absurd she sounds. “Sorry. I’m just- I know this isn’t exactly friend behaviour. I’m aware, okay? But can you just...let me live in denial a little while longer? I don’t- I can’t admit to it yet. I just can’t.”

 

Oh, no, she’s, like, sad, now. Why can’t Gert and Chase ever do things the easy way? Why can’t any of them? “...Okay, Gert. If that’s how you feel.” She starts to leave, calling, “I’ll, uh, leave you lovebirds to it-”

 

A pillow hits her on the back of the head, and as she cries out, Gert laughs, a sharp, mocking thing. “Karma!”

 

~~~~~

 

As Nico makes the trek back to her bedroom, she can’t help but find herself more than a little distracted by what she’s just seen. She doesn’t think she’ll ever understand the two of them- it could all just be so simple if they learned to talk about their damn feelings.

 

_ Well, that’s rich, _ says that tiny voice in her head that sounds like her mother. Nico groans, hating that it’s right. She’s terrible at actually talking about how she feels, and it’s throwing a wrench into her and Karolina’s relationship. Sure, a small wrench, the type of wrench you’d find in a toolbox for children, but still a wrench. It’s something she needs to work on, honestly-  _ “Woah!” _

 

This  _ woah  _ is due to her running straight into someone, flying back a few steps from the collision. On impulse, her hand goes to the Staff of One, shoved into her pocket in quiet mode, as per usual. She’s just pulled it out, quick as a wit, when she takes a look around and realizes that Ty Johnson is, like, the opposite of a threat, and that maybe she needs to cool it on the reactionary shit. 

 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Ty says, holding up his hands and wincing, as if he’s  _ already  _ been hit, “don’t shoot!”

 

Nico deactivates the Staff, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, that’s on me. You caught me off guard.”

 

Ty relaxes- but not completely. His shoulders are still bunched up, and he still seems on edge. “It’s- it’s fine. Just- not a  _ huge _ fan of having weapons pointed at me.”

 

Nico huffs a laugh, even though it wasn’t funny. “I know how that feels. Nothing like a gun in your face to put you off weaponry forever. This,” she holds up the Staff, “is just...I dunno. It’s useful- but it’s a lot of darkness.”

 

His eyes go soft, and suddenly Nico sees it- why everyone seems to like him so much. He’s the type of guy that you bring home to your parents, or something. Even if Nico doesn’t like newcomers, she had to admit that Ty is nice to be around. He nods a little in understanding. “Yeah, I’m- my powers, they work like that, too. Sometimes it feels like I’m going to drown in it, like it’ll swallow me up and I’ll never be able to surface.”

 

His tone is far away and introspective, but Nico understands, somehow. She remembers what Karolina said, once, about Nico’s darkness  _ being _ her power, and decides to impart the same wisdom unto him. “Y’know, it’s not something you should be scared of. How will you ever know how to use it properly if you fear it- fear  _ yourself?”  _

 

Ty ducks his head, a tiny grin apparent on his face. “That’s...that’s some good advice, Nico.”

 

She gives him a small smile in return, patting his arm a little awkwardly. “Anytime.”

 

**__________**

 

“I really don’t like her.”

 

“Karrie, you don’t like anyone,” Gert says from behind her, where she’s braiding Karolina’s hair. They’re doing a braid chain (order: Xavin, Nico, Karolina, Gert. They’d asked Molly to join, but she’d declined, for some reason). “Why should Tandy be any different?”

 

“Because Tandy isn’t one of  _ us,”  _ Nico says, and Karolina nods in agreement. 

 

“One,” Gert says, flicking Karolina on the shoulder, “don’t move when I’m braiding your hair. Two: Nico, you sound like one of the Heathers. We’re not some clique, y’know.”

 

“Listen, I can be a mythic bitch if I want to be.”

 

“You guys are saying a lot of words that i don’t understand right now,” Xavin cuts in. “What’s a Heather?”

 

“The Alpha Bitch,” Gert says.

 

“Don’t forget the Demon Queen of High School,” Karolina adds, giggling. She really doesn’t understand why Molly didn’t want to hang out with them- she loves  _ Heathers.  _ Well, her loss. “And it’s a movie, Xav. I’d say we should watch it, but it’s, like, emotionally scarring, so.”

 

“It’s also a musical-”

 

“Oh my gosh, are you guys talking about _ Heathers? _ I love that movie!” Oh, great, Tandy’s here. Karolina has to suppress an eyeroll as she enters the common room, grinning. 

 

Technically, there’s not really anything wrong with Tandy. She’s perfectly nice, if a little stunted, growth wise. Karolina can tell that she never ate her vegetables as a kid. But Nico doesn’t like her- or Ty- which means that Karolina doesn’t like her, because girlfriend/love of her life solidarity. Plus, there’s only room for  _ one  _ hot blonde in this friend group.

 

“We are!” Gert says, sounding equally excited. “Hey, wanna join the braid chain?”

 

“Sure- wait. Wait. I have, like, the shortest hair of all short hair. Hmph.” She crosses her arms, twisting her mouth up, and, okay, Karolina has to admit it: from a lesbian perspective, Tandy is hot as fuck. 

 

“How about you braid  _ my  _ hair?” Gert suggests, and Tandy snorts.

 

“Yeah, you need it.”

 

“Um, rude,” Gert says as Tandy trots over and sits behind her, legs crossed. 

 

“Part of my charm. Now, shh, I’ve got braiding to do.”

 

**__________**

 

_ “There was a boy I met in kindergarten, he was sweet, he said that I was smart. He was good at sports and people liked him, and at naptime once we shared a mat. I didn’t sleep, I sat and watched him breathing, watched him dream for nearly half an hour...Oooh, then he woke up.” _

 

Gert is singing, soft and a little sad, in her bedroom- their bedroom?- and, while Chase had been about to walk in, he can’t now. He can’t. 

 

_ “He didn’t care if I was thin or pretty, and he was mine until we hit first grade...Oooh, then he woke up. Last night I dreamed a horse with wings flew down into my homeroom. On its back, there he sat, and he held out his arms…” _

 

God, her voice is beautiful. He’s in love with it- in love with  _ her. _ Fucking Christ, is he in love with her. He also kind of feels like crying, because even he isn’t dumb enough to be oblivious to the fact that she’s definitely singing about him. It’d be romantic if the lyrics weren’t so sad.

 

_ “My kindergarten boyfriend, and I...now we’re all grown up and we know better, now we recognize the way things are. Certain boys are meant for kindergarten, certain girls are meant to be alone…” _

 

Eyes teary, Chase clears his throat and raps on the half open door. Gert had been folding laundry, but now she looks up, eyes going wide as saucers when she sees who’s at the door. 

 

“Um, h-hey. How much did you hear?”

 

“U-uh,” he starts, wiping at his eyes, “enough.”

 

“Right. Okay.”

 

“Your voice is- your voice is really pretty. And that song was- it was nice.”  _ Even if it was about me. Presumably. _

 

Gert gives him a pained smile. “Thanks. It’s- it’s from  _ Heathers? _ Like, the musical- we were talking about it earlier, and, um, I dunno. I just got reminded of it, I guess.”

 

He wants to hug her so badly right now. Can he do that? Friends hug, right? 

 

Cautiously, he approaches, reaching out and touching her arm. Gert looks up at him, surprised- then moves to lean against him without a word, wrapping her arms around him loosely. He rubs his hand up and down her back, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

 

“Don’t- don’t get all big-headed, now,” Gert says, in a small, desperate kind of voice. “That wasn’t- that wasn’t about you.”

 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

 

“Oh, I know.” She sighs, miserable. “But can’t we pretend just this once that I’m fantastic at it and you believe everything I say?”

 

“Gert…”

 

“Come on, it’s just- it’s just some dumb song.” Her face is pressed into his chest, and her voice comes out muffled. “It’s not a big deal.”

 

Chase hums a little, asking, “You sure?”

 

“No, but I don’t want to talk about it, so.” 

 

They hold each other for a while, breathing each other in in the quiet. For a long while, Chase considers just leaving it that way, letting Gert have her desperately wanted subject change. But this needs to be said. So, in a quiet voice, he starts, “Listen, Gert-”

 

She cuts him off with a groan. “Can’t you stop-”

 

“Can’t you let me finish?” She goes silent. “Thank you. Now, all I was going to say was that...I’m never going to be that guy, okay? I’m not gonna leave you alone ever again. I did once, and it was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. We clear on that?”

 

Gert looks up at him, then, eyes glassy. “...Crystal.”

 

~~~~~

 

Chase can’t sleep. 

 

He’s tried, for sure- used every last trick in the book, even counted sheep until he reached two thousand. But nothing has worked. Maybe he just needs to walk around for a bit, work off this restless energy of his.

 

Carefully, he disentangles himself from Gert, which in itself takes much longer than it should. She’s really clingy in sleep. Usually, he likes that- likes being held, likes the feeling of safety that comes with it. But it’s a little less enjoyable when you’re trying to get out of bed and your...friend (?) is octopus-ing you into staying.

 

He manages it eventually, and all but tiptoes out of the room, quiet as a mouse. He’d rather die than wake her up right now. Once Chase is in the clear, he heads downstairs to the kitchen, still trying to keep quiet. Everyone is asleep, after all.

 

Wait, why is the kitchen light on? Maybe...not everyone?

 

He approaches the entrance cautiously, wondering who could be awake at this ungodly hour. His mind scrolls through the options, from least likely (Gert, solely because he just saw her) to most (Nico, because she’s a chronic insomniac). But the last person he’s expecting to find is Tandy Bowen, hair a mess and shoulders slumped as she munches on a bag of Cheetos.

 

Chase knocks on the side of the doorway, and she startles, looking up at him as he says, “Hey.”

 

“Heyyy,” Tandy replies, fidgeting. “What are- what are you doing up?”

 

Chase shrugs, ambling over to the fridge and grabbing a Gatorade. “Couldn’t sleep. You?”

 

“The same.”

 

He shoots her a sympathetic smile. “Anything specific keeping you up? Nightmares? Boy troubles?”

 

Tandy rolls her eyes at the way he wriggles his eyebrows as he adds the second option, then softly replies, “Um, the first one.”

 

His brows go up as he makes his way over to her, plopping down in the chair across from her at the table. “Wanna talk about it?”

 

She shakes her head at first, then seems to change her mind, nodding. “Um, yeah, okay. Sure. Ty is always telling me I need to open up more…”

 

Chase makes a gesture of gentle encouragement. “Go on?”

 

Tandy swallows, her eyes falling closed as she asks, “Did Gert ever tell you how we got our powers?”

 

He shakes his head, assuming the ‘we’ is in reference to Ty and Tandy. “No. she rarely spoke of you at all- but I assume that has a lot more to do with her not wanting to talk about when she was gone, rather than you two as people.”

 

She nods slowly, like that makes sense. “Well, um...okay, so I would never be able to explain to you, like, the science of it, but it all started one stormy night on the way home from ballet practice with my dad…”

 

Tandy tells him the story in a slow and halting tone, like it’s not something she’s ever put into words before. Chase knows that feeling. He knows what it’s like to have so many memories of pain and suffering that it’s easier to just keep them to himself, where no one can ever know about them. 

 

“...My- I mean, the nightmare, it was...I’ve had it before. A lot. I’m- I’m in the car, and it’s sinking, and the water is rising, and all I can feel is  _ dread. _ I was- I was eight, can you imagine being eight years old and knowing you’re about to die?”

 

_ “Yes.” _

 

Chase doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but it comes out, anyways, and now Tandy is looking at him weird. Well, not weird. More...morbidly curious. He clears his throat, looking down at his lap as he says, “I, um...I happen to know a thing or two about drowning. I was eleven, actually. My dad- he pushed me into the pool. I- I made him mad, I guess. I don’t remember what the argument was about. But I do remember that feeling, when you’re past the point of no return, beyond saving- and you think,  _ this is it. I am going to die. _ It’s...it’s-”

 

“Indescribable.”

 

He laughs, sharp and cold. “Pretty much, yeah. All you want is for everything to just stop, it hurts so bad. But nothing ever felt so good as getting out of the water and taking that first gulp of air.”

 

Tandy nods, looking down at her hands, clasped together on the table. Her fingertips are stained orange from the Cheetos, and if he wasn’t feeling so off-kilter right now, he would probably tease her for it. Not looking up, she says quietly, “It’s almost like rebirth. Or resurrection.”

 

Chase snorts. “What, are me, you, and Jesus in some sort of club, now? Death Survivors Anonymous?”

 

Tandy giggles a little, reaching over to flick him on the forearm. “Yeah, sure. Meeting’s next Tuesday. I’ll bring the donuts.”

 

He shakes his head to himself, grinning like a fucking fool. “Sounds good to me.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	12. Had It Up To Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sneaking out, sleuthing, and No Doubt.

Tandy is worried.

 

This isn’t a  _ new  _ thing, per se- she’s been stressed out since practically age eight- but the  _ cause _ of the worry is. Because while she trusts Gert, she doesn’t trust her friend leaving the Hostel at ass o’clock in the morning every day and sneaking back in before anyone else wakes up. They’ve been here five days, because Ty has only just gathered up the energy to go home, and Tandy noticed this habit on only their second morning at the Hostel. This time, though, she’s gonna see what Gert is up to. It’s her last chance before they return to New Orleans, and she’s not wasting it.

 

So that morning, she disentangles herself from Ty (holding hands turned to cuddling turned to spooning over the course of the past few nights, mostly due to Ty’s octopus tendencies. Yes, she is the big spoon) and sneaks out of their bedroom. It’s still dark and silent, since the morning hasn’t even technically begun yet, so she has to be quiet as she heads to the exit- and she  _ almost _ makes it.

 

“Where the hell are you going?” Ty asks, voice sleepy and annoyed. “It’s  _ literally _ the crack of dawn. The  _ roosters _ aren’t even awake yet, Dee-Dee.”

 

She wrinkles her nose at him as she pulls on her left sneaker. “Shut up about roosters. And if you must know, I’m going to go see what Gert is up to. She leaves super early every morning and comes back before anyone else wakes up, and I’m suspicious.”

 

Ty rolls his eyes. “You’re suspicious of everything.”

 

She crosses her arms, peeved that he’s right. “And? Anyway, I’ll be back later-”

 

“Uh, no, I’m totally coming with you. Hang on, let me get my sneakers.”

 

And off they go not five minutes later, distantly trailing Gert up ahead and doing their best to stay hidden, despite their...loud...pyjamas. Tandy’s are Power Rangers themed, and Ty is wearing Scooby Doo pj pants, so they’re not exactly inconspicuous. Plus, they’re kinda bickering? Turns out they’re not so great at this whole stealth thing. But Tandy is pretty sure Gert, who, to be fair,  _ is  _ pretty far ahead, hasn’t noticed them yet, so she’s calling it a win.

 

“You should’ve brought a jacket.” Ty scolds, because he’s really just an overgrown mother hen under all those muscles. 

 

“I’m fine without it,” she whispers back, shivering. “It’s  _ Los Angeles. _ I’ll survive.”

 

Ty heaves a sigh, then pulls his hoodie over his head and hauls it off, handing it to her. She’s about to reject it, but Ty gives her that look of his that says if she argues, she won’t win, so she tugs on the much too big hoodie in silence. 

 

He grins down at her, and maybe the early morning light is messing with her vision, because it almost seems like he’s blushing. “You look- you look good. In my- you look good.”

 

Oh, no, now she’s blushing, too. “Thanks. You, too. I- I mean, I never thought glistening cowboys were your thing, but…”

 

Ty looks down at his shirt- which, indeed, is printed with a pin-up type cowboy- and laughs, which she’s thankful for. She almost gave him an honest to God compliment just then, like, full stop, not even pep talk related. What was she  _ thinking? _

 

_ That you’re in love with him, and he makes your brain so wonky that you can’t even form a thought properly, that’s what.  _

 

Oh, right. 

 

Cautiously, oh so cautiously, Tandy brushes her hand against his, scolding herself as she does so for her stupidity. He’s not going to notice, or worse, reject her, and she’s going to feel the most embarrassed she’s ever-

 

He grabs her hand. He grabs her hand, and all her worries melt away just like that. Ty’s always been good at getting rid of her fears, though. And she wants to do the same for him so badly- strives for it. That’s what makes them so good together, she thinks. They’re there for each other. 

 

Tandy ducks her head, clearing her throat. “Hey, Ty…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

 _Okay, come on, you can do it. Shoot your shot, take a chance, whatever it is the kids say._ ** _Do it._** “I was just wondering if-”

 

“You guys know I can see you, right?”  _ Shit.  _ Double shit, because one, Gert’s found them out, and two, Tandy was just  _ this  _ close to confessing her feelings. Although, maybe she should thank Gert for that one. 

 

“What? How!?” Tandy calls, jogging towards her. No point trying to hide now. “We were, like, totally stealthy.”

 

Ty, who had followed her, scoffs. “We were not. And I told you she’s not up to anything weird.”

 

Gert huffs a laugh, taking a sip from her water bottle. “Nope, just exercising...though one could argue that that’s weird in itself. For me, anyway. Speaking of  _ me  _ and _ weird-” _ she whistles, and a large, scaly beast lumbers out of the trees. Beside her, Ty freezes up. “Say hi to OL, guys.”

 

Ty greets the dinosaur meekly, but Tandy steps forward, reaching to scratch behind Old Lace’s ear and under her chin. “Who’s a good girl? Who’s a good girl?”

 

She loves animals, despite never having had a pet. Even the scaly ones are adorable. 

 

Though she’s only half paying attention, he hears Ty ask Gert, “How’d you notice us, anyway?”

 

Gert shrugs in her peripheral. “I dunno. You weren’t that loud, or anything, but I- I could just tell you were there, I guess. Women’s intuition, or something like that.”

 

“Yeah, maybe. We were pretty far behind, though.” Ty looks over at her, then. She’s almost forced to notice him, looking up at his warm smile from where she’d been fawning over Old Lace.

 

She raises an eyebrow at him, confused. “What is it?”

 

Ty shakes his head a little, biting his lip. “Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

 

Unbeknownst to him, Tandy is very much so going to worry about it.

 

The walk home is awkward- well, for her. Ty and Gert are just fine, chatting about God knows what and being all flirty. Tandy stays a few steps behind them, berating herself for her cowardice. She hasn’t been very stand-up at all lately when it comes to behaviour- from spilling other people’s secrets to an insane amount of paranoia, it’s a wonder that Ty hasn’t gotten sick of her, yet.

 

Sometimes, Tandy wonders why he hasn’t up and left her- why he hasn’t finally realized that this so-called best friend of his really isn’t that great of a person in the first place, and that, really, he can do better.  _ Much  _ better. She’s a two-bit criminal with commitment issues, and half the time, Tandy thinks that Ty is only around because their powers happen to be connected, and they have no clue why. What will happen if they ever solve that mystery- what will happen if they discover that, really, these abilities have nothing to do with each other, and it’s all just one big coincidence?

 

Ty looks back at her, then- like he’s checking up on her, making sure she’s still around. Suddenly, Tandy feels very, very stupid. Ty is her best friend, and she’s his. And, besides- she doesn’t really believe in coincidences.

 

~~~~~

 

_ “Take this pink ribbon off my eyes _

_ I'm exposed _

_ And it's no big surprise _

_ Don't you think I know _

_ Exactly where I stand _

_ This world is forcing me _

_ To hold your hand!” _

 

Why do so many people sing in this damn house? Tandy doesn’t get it. All she’d wanted to do was get some orange juice, but nooo, now the kitchen is Madison Square Garden. Awesome. Well, at least whoever it is can sing- and she means  _ really  _ sing. Like,  _ damn.  _

 

“ _ The moment that I step outside _

_ So many reasons _

_ For me to run and hide _

_ I can't do the little things _

_ I hold so dear _

_ 'Cause it's all those little things _

_ That I fear!” _

 

Her only hope is that it’s not Gert- both because of the embarrassment that was this morning, and that Tandy is desperately trying to avoid telling her that she let slip something she Absolutely Wasn’t Supposed To to Molly. Unfortunately, Tandy just isn’t that lucky today.

 

_ “Oh, am I making myself clear? _

_ I'm just a girl _

_ I'm just a girl in the world _

_ That's all that you'll let me be! _

_ Oh I'm just a girl, living in captivity _

_ Your rule of thumb _

_ Make me worry some-  _ oh, shit.”

 

Gert has noticed her presence, which Tandy is a little surprised by- she swears she wasn’t making a sound. It seems that Gert has...an augmented sense of her surroundings, though. It’s just something she’s noticed, as of late. Despite the fact that she clearly has some kind of ear wound- Tandy is a walking, talking injury encyclopedia, she knows how someone with a fucked up ear behaves (for instance: not being able to hear her own name being called when the person speaking is right next to her, which Tandy has seen happen multiple times)- Gert is perfectly attuned, 24/7. Tandy wishes  _ she  _ could be that attentive. But, no, ADHD has cursed her with the attention span of your average goldfish. 

 

She gives Gert an awkward wave, saying, “Um, hi. Your voice is pretty.”

 

Gert, who’d already been blushing, turns an even darker shade of red. “Th-thanks. Did you need anything?”

 

“Just, um, just orange juice. If that’s cool.”

 

Gert nods, stepping away from the sandwich she’d been putting together mid-No Doubt concert and waving her forward. Tandy gives her an awkward smile as she opens the fridge and grabs the carton of orange juice, trying not to be too paranoid. 

 

Though neither Molly or Gert has confronted her about it, Tandy has been on edge about her major fuck-up since the day it happened. She should have never opened her big mouth. The worst part is, she  _ knew  _ she wasn’t supposed to say anything. When Ty told her about it, he  _ specifically said not to. _ But, no, Tandy doesn’t understand boundaries or the concept of secrets, and now she’s drowning in the guilt.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Gert asks as Tandy pours herself the glass of orange juice. “Your hands are shaking.”

 

“What? No, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be fine, I’m-“ oh, shit, she’s poured too much into the glass, and now it’s overflowed, spilling over the sides and splashing onto the counter. She shakily puts down the carton, watching, frozen, as the orange juice races over the edge of the counter and starts to drip, drip down, splicing off and splashing and making a huge mess. Just like her life. Just like her state of mind right now, jumbled and messy and-

 

“Dude, help me clean up,” Gert demands, snapping Tandy out of whatever haze she was just in. Gert hands her a rag, then starts wiping down the counter, quick and efficient. Still feeling out of it, Tandy tries to help, but her hands keep shaking, and she keeps dropping the rag. 

 

Unexpectedly, the rag is snatched out of her hand, and she startles, looking over to Gert, who has one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. “Okay, tell me what’s going on.”

 

Tandy shakes her head. “Nothing. Nothing is going on, I swear.”

 

Gert rolls her eyes, sceptical. “Uh-huh, sure, that was totally believable.”

 

“I agree!” She clambers to her feet, starting to make her way out of the room as quickly as possible, because she is  _ not  _ having this conversation, right now or ever. No  _ way.  _ “See ya!”

 

“Um, bye?”

 

**__________**

 

This is probably stupid, what Gert is up to, right now. It’s not like she’ll ever get to take piano lessons again, so practicing old tunes on the piano that Nico ‘found’ recently is most likely useless. She says ‘found’ in quotation marks because she only half believes that Nico actually discovered it somewhere in one of the many decrepit rooms and didn’t just magic it up out of boredom.

 

But, whatever. She needs a distraction, and this works as good as anything. Or, at least that’s what she tells herself as her fingers fly across the keys, lightning fast as she starts to play her third round of a quick rendition of the Swan Lake Finale- aka one of Tchaikovsky’s best pieces, if you ask her. She’s been trying to do a perfect run through, but no luck, yet.

 

There’s a noise behind her, but Gert ignores it. This piece really isn’t meant for only one instrument, so it takes a lot of concentration to play it on just a shitty old piano. But she knows this piece off by heart, and she’s become totally engrossed in it, now- back hunched over the keyboard, eyes snapped shut, just the way she used to when playing piano was the one thing she cared about in life. It’s like riding a bike- you can pick up right where you left off. And where Gert left off is perfecting the final notes- she’d just been finishing this piece when all the Our Parents Are Cultist Murderers hubbub started, and she ended up skipping lessons more than going to them. She kind of regrets it, honestly- she misses the old piano she used to play, the soft blanket that always lay on the bench, the way being so good at something made her feel like she was important, like she mattered. But it seems that even the oldest dog can learn new tricks, because Gert has done what she would’ve listed as impossible a year ago- finished the ending without one single hitch.

 

She breathes a happy little sigh as she sits up, cracking her knuckles. It’s a quiet kind of joy, the type that washes over you instead of hitting you like a tsunami. It’s-

 

Gert doesn’t get to finish her thought, because someone has started to clap, loud and appreciative. She whips around, eyes wide. Ty is standing in the doorway, grinning as he calls, “Bravo, bravo!”   
  


Gert blushes, embarrassed in three different ways. “Ummm, thanks.”

 

Ty grins, shrugging a little. “You’re really good. How’d you learn?”

 

Gert gestures for him to join her on the bench, saying, “My grandmother made me take lessons. I think it was some sort of revenge on my Mom for being a nerd. Bubbie was a ballerina back in,” she affects a thick, Russian accent, just like Bubbie Natasha- she even adds in a hand gesture for good measure, “the mother country.”

 

“Russian, huh? I knew a Russian girl, back when I was in school. She was...severe.” His tone has turned softer, and he won’t look at her, now, eyes on the keys as he presses them lightly, one by one. 

 

“Exchange student, or something?”

 

As he starts to play a very bastardized version of  _ Frere Jacques,  _ Ty nods. “Yeah. She had stick straight hair, blonde as that dragon chick from Game of Thrones. She was a dancer, but- but not in the way that Tandy dances. Tandy dances because she loves it, this girl I knew- Sonya- she did it to be the best. And that’s not...Well, I won’t judge. It just seems like, why do something just to win, not to love it with everything you’ve got?”

 

As he says the last word, Ty presses the wrong key, a sharp, discordant sound that makes her wince. Gert huffs a laugh, half-pitying his abysmal piano skills and half-agreeing with what he’s saying. Suddenly, she gets an idea. “Hey, do you want me to teach you? To play piano, I mean.”

 

It’s slightly futile- Ty and Tandy are leaving today, after all. Ty finally had his mumbo-jumbo back, so they’re leaving later today- but that doesn’t mean she can’t give him a good memory to end on.

 

Ty blinks, then nods. “Um, sure. I- I used to play, when I was a kid, but I guess I grew out of it.”

 

Gert scoffs halfheartedly. “You don’t  _ grow out of  _ stuff like this, Ty. It stays with you. Even if you’re rusty, or you’ve forgotten, you still know the way- in here.”

 

She taps her fingers against his chest, right above his heart, and Ty huffs a laugh. “Wow, poetic.”

 

She blushes a little, mumbling, “I guess so. You ready, now?”

 

Ty nods, seeming cautiously excited. He wiggles his fingers above the keys, teasing, “Show me the ways of the trade, Oh Ancient One.”

 

Gert makes an offended noise. “Ty, I’m only, like, two months older than you.”

 

She knows this, because they’d had a discussion and subsequent argument about ages, and also whether it sucks more to be an older sibling or a younger sibling. Ty won, but only because this led to him reliving memories of his dead brother- who, to be fair, Gert hadn’t even known about at the time. This was their very first evening together, and she was, for lack of a better word, malnourished in every single way, including mind-wise. Her best method of solving the problem at the time was giving Ty a hug and telling him he won, which she thinks was a decent solution. But, anyway, back to the present. Gert  _ has  _ to stop slipping into her own mind like this, it’s almost unhealthy.

 

Luckily, Ty doesn’t seem to have caught on. He shoots her a goofy smile, saying, “Uh-huh, I know, you’re a  _ grandma, _ grandma. Now, teach me?”

 

“Ungrateful little whippersnapper.” Gert jokes in a crotchety old-person voice, before reverting to reply, “And...yes, of course.”

 

**__________**

 

Chase’s heart hurts. It always does, lately- consequences of bottling up your feelings for the girl you’re desperately in love with. Not to mention the fact that they’re sleeping in the same fucking bed every night, which makes everything harder- in more ways than one. Trust him, there is absolutely nothing worse than waking up with a boner with his fast asleep ex-girlfriend curled up on his chest. 

 

So, yeah. He hasn’t been having such a great time, lately. It’s basically just been Chase and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, but just, like, every day since Ty and Tandy showed up. The worst of it all is that they’re not even bad people- oh, how he wishes they were bad people. In a horrible turn of events, Ty and Tandy are both perfectly nice. Himself and Tandy are even sort of friends, maybe. He would’ve considered becoming acquainted with Ty had he not heard what he’s just heard and seen what he’s just seen. Wait, did that make sense? Whatever. The point is, Chase just nearly walked in on Gert teaching Ty to play piano- hands over his as they played and everything, like a fucking romcom or some shit. He just about went off his head right then and there, but he managed to avoid barging in there and screaming at them, if only through sheer force of will.

 

God, he needs to talk to her about this, doesn’t he? He actually needs to tell her how he feels like some bleeding heart bitch baby, because if he doesn’t, he’s going to literally explode. He doesn’t know how he didn’t spontaneously combust just  _ then, _ seeing them like that. He’s lucky he was able to keep is composure long enough to keep walking instead of barging in there and voicing every jealous thought running through his mind. 

 

He can’t do that, and he’s very aware of this fact. He and Gert are not dating, and he’s the one who left, so he doesn’t get to be jealous. But that doesn’t mean he’s not seething, anyway. 

 

By the time he’s calmed himself down enough to have a rational conversation about his Feelings like some bitch ass loser, an hour has passed. He goes back to the room where he’d found Gert and Ty, but it’s empty. They must have left by now- maybe they went to Gert’s room. Maybe they’re making out. Maybe-

 

“Shut the fuck up,” he mumbles to the empty hallway. “You’re being irrational.”

 

“Who’s being irrational?”

 

Chase starts, whipping around at the sound of Gert’s voice. There she stands at the end of the hall, leaning against the railing with her hands in her pockets. She jerks her chin at him, wearing a lazy smile as she asks, “Wassup?”

 

“U-uhhh,” he starts, already sweating bullets. “I- I need to talk to you, actually.”

 

Her eyebrows go up, and she ambles over to him, seeming a little apprehensive, now. “Okay, shoot.”

 

“Um, I just, I dunno, I was thinking-”

 

Gert squints at him. “Chase, dude, spit it out.”

 

He swallows, preparing himself. Is he really doing this? Okay, yeah, he’s doing this. “Well-”

 

“I  _ cannot  _ believe you!” Tandy’s voice, pissed off and emotional, yells from the entrance to the hallway. 

 

There’s a groan in response, one that could only be coming from Ty. “I really don’t get why you’re upset! Why do you even care?”

 

Gert’s eyes go wide as saucers, and before Chase knows it, she’s grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him into a nearby closet, closing the door behind her as Tandy and Ty come storming down the hallway. 

 

Muffled, he hears Tandy yell, “Of course I care!” 

 

The sounds of angry footsteps fade out, and Chase breathes a sigh of relief. “Well, glad we avoided that. Can we...leave now?”

 

Gert shakes her head. “Nope. They’ll be back- Tandy likes to pace while she’s arguing. It’s safer here, unless  _ you  _ want to deal with her when she’s rampaging.”

 

Chase shakes his head, and then it’s silent. It only takes him about two seconds to realize how small this closet is, and how close they are right now because of said lack of space. She’s barely five inches from him- he can even smell her shampoo. Oranges, vanilla, and completely intoxicating. This is torture.

 

There’s some stomping noises outside, and they both startle- the top of Gert’s head hitting his chin as she jumps in surprise. He winces, rubbing at it and saying quietly, “Jesus, Gert.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she responds in a low tone, “is it my fault we’re so...close…?”

 

She looks up at him, the hanging light above them reflecting in her eyes. She seems a little speechless, mouth open like she wants to say something but doesn’t know what that something is. He wants to kiss her so badly that he aches with it. Though he might be fooling himself, he thinks that maybe she’s thinking the same thing- her chin is tilted up, and she’s let her eyes fall closed. Chase swallows, then leans in ever so slowly, inching towards her with extreme, extreme caution. Is this really happening? Are they really going to kiss right now?

 

“And I just think that maybe you’re  _ jealous!”  _ says Ty, and they spring apart, both blushing in the dim lighting. 

 

Desperately avoiding her eyes, Chase tunes in more to the conversation outside.

 

“Me, jealous?” Tandy asks, incredulous. “Pfft. I don’t even like Gert that way, why would I be jealous of you?”

 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Oooh, Ty sounds mad. 

 

“I- I don’t want to talk about that right now. Actually, you know what? I’m gonna go pack. Since we’re leaving today, and all.”

 

Ty heaves a sigh. “Right. Sure. See you later.”

 

They both head off in what is presumably opposite directions, and Gert sighs in relief. “Okay, we can go out, now.”

 

She opens the door, and they tumble out. Chase takes a deep breath, finally free from the torture that was being in a small enclosed space with the ex-girlfriend he’s still head over heels in love with. 

 

Gert shakes her head in the direction that Ty seems to have headed off to, saying, “They’re so stupid. Why can’t they just be honest about their feelings?”

 

Chase swallows, feeling more than a little called out. “I think maybe they really are just that dumb.”

 

_ I wish I could tell you the real answer, though. I wish I could tell you a lot of other things, too. _

 

**_________**

 

Molly is snooping. She shouldn’t be, but she is. Ever since Tandy told her...that  _ thing _ about Gert and Dale...the other day, she’s been trying to figure things out- namely, whether or not Tandy was telling the truth. So, snooping.

 

The best place to start is Gert’s car- well, she hopes so, at least. After all, it  _ is  _ where Dale and Gert spent all that time together, and the garage is less frequented ever since Chase moved back into he and Gert’s room. Yes, she knows about that- the two of them are the  _ opposite  _ of subtle. 

 

Right now is a good time to go looking for clues, mainly because she knows her sister- and everyone else, for that matter- is busy to the extreme. Gert has taken it upon herself to help Ty and Tandy get ready to leave, which is kind of stupid, if you ask her, but whatever. If it lets Molly sneak around, then Gert can do what she likes. Even if it means she’s sticking her head where it doesn’t belong and probably stirring up another argument over thinly-veiled jealousy as she speaks.

 

Though, Molly can’t really say much, can she? Seeing as she’s rooting around Gert’s car without her knowledge right now, and everything. She’s not finding much, though, which is...well. Molly doesn’t know what it is. If she doesn’t find anything, is that good? Does it mean that Tandy really  _ was  _ lying? Or...does it mean that Gert has just hidden the evidence? 

 

After she’s checked every nook and cranny of the front of the car- in which she found candy, old wrappers, and books, but no evidence- she gets out of the car and heads to the back, plopping down. She’s feeling less on edge, now. Halfway through, and  _ nothing. _

 

Until she reaches under the seat, and her fingers graze against cold, cold metal. Hands shaking, she grasps the object, bringing it out and dropping into her lap. It’s...a case, heavy and industrial and completely innocuous. She freezes, almost unsure of what to do. It’s like Schrodinger’s case- open it, solve the mystery once and for all; or...don’t. Forget she’s ever seen it and move on with her life. Because what if seeing what’s in here changes everything? What if this really is proof, and she has to go around knowing her own sister would be that brutal, that  _ ruthless? _

 

But...but not knowing? That would be even worse. So she  _ has _ to see what it is, or go her entire life not knowing what really happened.

 

Every muscle in her body is clenched as she opens the case with a quiet  _ click,  _ eyes to the ceiling even as she cracks it open fully. She doesn’t want to look down at it, despite knowing that she already made the decision when she unlocked it. She did this to herself, after all, so now she has to take the plunge, even if she won’t like what she finds. She has to know the truth _.  _ Molly takes a deep breath, steeling herself...then looks down.

 

Fit snugly in a divot of the velvet inside of the case sits a near-empty syringe, only the last few drops of whatever was in it resting at the bottom. Well, she says ‘whatever was in it’- it’s clear from the conveniently placed label that proclaims the former contents as  _ Memory Wipe Serum _ that this is the proof Molly has been looking for so desperately. This is what Gert used to erase their father’s memory.

 

Molly slumps back against the seat, hit all of a sudden by the weight of this discovery. How could Gert do this? How could she take away every moment of his life as he knew it in just a single second? Every memory of Molly, of Stacey, of the three of them as a family, just  _ gone. _

 

The worst of is that she doesn’t even know where he is now. He could be dead in a ditch somewhere, and she’d have no idea.

 

She needs to talk to somebody right now. Not  _ Gert- _ if Molly even looks at her sister right now, she’ll explode. Not Chase, either, because he always takes Gert’s side in everything. Nico would be too mature about it, Karolina would try to get her to see both sides, and Xavin...Xavin’s a wild card. A wild card who Molly isn’t sure she trusts with her deepest secrets yet. So that leaves...Alex. Wait, where the hell is Alex? She hasn’t seen him all day, that’s weird.

 

Molly leaves the garage, managing not to puke as she tucks the metal case back under the seat of the car. She searches the Hostel up and down, but there’s no sign of him. This is just what she needs-  _ more  _ stress. Thanks for that, Alex. 

 

God, what if he got abducted? For the  _ third  _ time? 

 

She whips out her shitty burner phone, typing out a message and pressing send. 

 

**You: hey lpser**

 

**You: whdre r u**

 

**You: if u got kudnapprd agaum in goinna kill u ded**

 

**You: omce is an aciddebt twoce id a coincedince 3 tymed is a pastern**

 

**You: r u oir fucken. Dansel in diftress of sum shit**

 

**NarutAlex: I am fine. I went out for the day. I will be home at some point later today. Do not wait up, though.**

 

Molly frowns down at her phone. Since when does Alex use full sentences? Where are the abbreviations that don’t make sense and the shorthand? 

 

**You: thif weord ass txtung stile is jst makig u seem moor kidnafped**

 

**NarutAlex: As I said, I am fine. I am not kidnapped. I just went out for the day to clear my head, and I will be back soon.**

 

**You: okjay liar**

 

Molly dials his number immediately after, because she’s legitimately worried now, and she’s not under any circumstances going to just leave this alone only to find out he’s dead in a ditch somewhere.

 

He picks up immediately, answering in an irritated tone.  _ “Why are you calling me? I told you, I’m fine.” _

 

“Dude, you were typing like a Hannibal roleplayer or some shit, of course I was going to call. I was worried.” She feels her stress level lowering now, though- even if he’s mad at her, at least he actually picked up. 

 

_ “Oh. Really? I did not think anyone would notice my absence.” _

 

Molly rolls her eyes. “Don’t be like that, obviously we’d notice. Also, what’s with the Xavin impression? Talk like a normal person, would you?”

 

_ “Haha, yes, I will do that. Goodbye, Molly. Thank you for thinking of me, but I am fine. I will return home soon.” _

And then the line disconnects. Well, then. Guess she’s dealing with her problems all on her lonesome.

 

**__________**   
  


Phew, that was close. He was sure that he was going to be caught just then, but he avoided it, because he’s a mastermind and an amazing liar.

 

**_Bullshit-_ **

 

“Shut up,” he says, before realizing that maybe that didn’t need to be said out loud. Fortunately, he’s not given any weird looks- this street corner that his sister told him to wait at is mostly empty.

 

He wishes she would arrive soon. He’s been here for nearly a half an hour- but his sister was never one to care much about being on time. She likes to call it being ‘fashionably late’, but he just thinks it’s disrespectful. It’s hot out here, and his skin is dry enough, he doesn’t need that worsened. 

 

He reaches under the sleeve of his sweater to scratch at his arm, flaky and irritated, even though he knows that will only make it more itchy. He hates these human forms so much more than he thought he would- they’re so fragile.

 

**_You’re such a whiner. Just buy some moisturizer like a normal person-_ **

 

“I thought I told you to shut up?” he mumbles, tapping his fingers against his leg impatiently. His sister is  _ so  _ late. If she doesn’t show up soon, he’ll-

 

An expensive looking cherry red sports car races up to the curb, then brakes so hard that the car rocks back and forth harshly. Sugary sweet pop music blares at such high volume that the vehicle shakes, only getting louder as the driver rolls down their window. 

 

His sister leans out of the window with a wide grin. “Hey, little brother. Let’s ride!”   
  


He glares at her as he rounds the car and gets in, slamming the door and saying, “Sister, I am older than you.”

 

She rolls her eyes as she starts back down the road at a frankly illegal speed. “Not in that body you aren’t. I’m a woman,  _ you’re  _ a little boy with an iron deficiency.”

 

**_Okay, rude-_ **

 

He sighs, leaning back in the leather seat. “You’re not wrong. This host is...insufficient. Where are you taking me, anyways?”

 

She smirks, turning towards him with excitement in her eyes. “You’ll see.”

 

~~~~~

 

Turns out, their destination isn’t quite as far as he’d been expecting. He’d assumed a return to the Stein household, but his sister informed him that they’d moved on from that homebase when the snot nosed brats had broken in for their little rescue mission. She tells him this with disgust in her voice, and maybe a little bitterness, but, really, it’s not  _ his  _ fault that the children succeeded. He’s the one who informed his sister of the plan, it’s not his fault she decided to fight them without back-up. 

 

Their new home-base may not be as far as he’d expected, but it is much more absurd. The noise of surprise he makes when his sister pulls up to the La Brea Tar Pits and parks is  _ not  _ a quiet one. 

 

“Why are we  _ here?”  _ he asks as they get out of the car, digging through Alexander’s memories of this place. There are...not a lot of them. 

 

**_Yeah, because my Mom hated it here. She always thought she’d get her dress dirty._ **

 

“Brother,” his sister responds, leaning over the top of the car, “if you were looking for a secure location for your dealings and plots, where is the last place in the world that you’d look?”

 

He grins, ambling in her direction as she gestures for him to follow. “How is it that you managed to hide a headquarters at the bottom of a pit of tar?”

 

She shrugs. “Wasn’t me. This host of mine was quite the creative, though. Her and Father and- well, Father’s host, all pitched in, from what I’ve gathered. But no matter. The mechanics aren’t important- what’s important is that we’ve got it.”

 

She leads him into the museum, grimacing at the hoards of small children as she makes a few twists and turns until they end up in an empty hallway. He frowns, confused. “Why here? I do not see an entrance.”

 

“Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there. I thought you would know that, Brother.” Smirking, she walks over to a broom closet near the end of the hallway, pressing one of the brick in the wall beside it. Unexpectedly, it recedes into the wall like some sort of button, and there’s a quiet  _ ding! _

 

His sister swings open the door, revealing...an elevator? “Well? Aren’t you coming?”

 

He nods, stepping inside eagerly. “Let’s get this show on the road, as the humans say.”

 

She laughs, and then they start their descent. Music plays as they go down, down, down, a tune he recognizes as an old Skrull jingle. Say what you like about the Skrulls- and if you listen to the Kree, kill them, too- but they have some damn good musicians. 

 

Though they are physically going downwards, he can feel his mood rising, up, up, and up as he finally feels truly content for the first time since entering this body. It’s a giddy, floating sensation, and-

 

“Brother, control yourself. We have rules about flying in confined spaces, and you know it.”

 

He looks down at himself, and realizes that he’s 1) five feet off the ground and 2) glowing neon green and blue. He floats back down immediately, but doesn’t turn off the light show. Mostly because it’s fun, and he’s missed being in his natural state. There truly is nothing like it. 

 

His sister rolls her eyes at him as the elevator comes to a stop. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

The door slides open, and he propels himself off the ground and shoots into the air, flying all the way up to the ceiling. Joyous, he calls, “Sorry, what’s that? I can’t hear you!”

 

His sister groans, then leaps into the air and follows him, glowing every shade of red and then some. She starts to chase after him, but he’s too quick, avoiding every attempt she makes to grab him, and even flipping through the air- loop de loops and figure eights and everything he can think of- just to show off. He’s missed this.

 

**_WOOOHOOOOO!! Why didn’t anybody tell me possession had these perks? This is a blast-_ **

 

“Children, get down here,  _ now.” _

 

**_Ooooh, you’re in trooooubleeee._ **

 

Embarrassed, he and his sister float down, reluctantly turning off the glow. 

 

“Sorry, Father,” he says, head bowed. “We were only having some fun. I apologize.”

 

“I don’t,” says his sister, setting off every single warning bell in his mind at once. “What do we have to apologize for? It was only a bit of racing.”

 

Father crosses his arms, tapping his foot. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem very intimidating, seeing as he’s much shorter than her. “I would implore you not to speak to me that way.”

 

“Oh, calm your tits,” a voice calls, and Mother walks up to join them, then, hands on her hips. She turns to him, smiling. “Hi, honey. Welcome home.”

 

He grins. “Hello, Mother. It’s good to see you.”

 

Though the host is more of a voice in his head than a physical entity, he can still feel him frowning.  **_Aren’t you going to hug her?_ **

 

_ That is not our way.  _

 

**_Well, why not? That seems-_ **

 

“It’s good to see you as well, Son. Even if this form you’ve chosen is...quite young. It will be useful to the final stage in our plan, though.”

 

He makes no comment on the fact that  _ her  _ host is a red-haired midget, instead frowning and asking, “And what would that be?”

 

She tilts her head at him. “Isn’t it obvious? We need to you to bring us Karolina.”

 

**__________**

 

Though she’d spent most of their time here loathing them, Nico is still sad to see Tandy and Ty go. It’s like one of those good news, bad news jokes- good news is, you won’t have to worry about their presence anymore. Bad news, you’ll miss them.

 

They’re standing in the common room, now, all of them present except Alex. She’d be worried, but according to Molly, he’s taking a quote unquote ‘personal day’. They’re saying their goodbyes, now, and it’s all just making her feel sick to her stomach. It reminds her too much of when Leslie left, and from the look on Karolina’s face, she can tell her girlfriend is thinking the same thing.

 

As Gert wraps her arms around Ty and Tandy in an emotional hug, Nico grabs Karolina’s hand, squeezing tight. Karolina sends her a pained look, and Nico brings her hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Karolina relaxes immediately, starting to lean into her a little. 

 

“Call me as soon as you get there, okay?” Gert asks as she pulls back, seeming nervous. “And don’t lose my number.”

 

Beside Nico, Xavin frowns, leaning over to whisper to Molly, “How does one ‘lose’ a number? I didn’t think they were physical things one could hold and lose.”

 

Molly laughs, then gets up on her tippy toes to whisper into their ear as Ty responds to Gert, “Of course not, Gert. We’ve got it memorized. And yes, we’ll call.”

 

“And don’t forget that if you need us,” Tandy starts, “we’re only one teleport away.”

 

Gert grins sadly, nodding- and then they’re gone. 

 

Though she’s relieved, Nico can’t help but feel like now that they’re gone, something else is bound to come along- something much, much, worse.

 

**__________**

 

“Babe, you know I love you, right? And you know that anything I say to you is meant with an intense level of adoration and sympathy?”

 

Nico raises an eyebrow from where she’s trying desperately to put a freshly dried dish on the top shelf. She’s balanced on top of a chair, and Karolina is  _ majorly  _ worried for her girlfriend’s safety right now. “Spit it out, Karrie.”

 

“Please, please stop trying to put things on the top shelf. I know you’re trying to help, but I can do this myself, and you’re going to end up breaking either bones or dishware.”

 

Nico glares at her, finally managing to get the plate where it belongs. She grins triumphantly, hands on her hips. “See? That wasn’t so-”

 

Unexpectedly, she topples, sending herself flying as she comes dangerously close to a face-plant. Luckily, Karolina has good reflexes, and propels herself swiftly into the air to catch her girlfriend in a bridal carry.

 

She floats back down to the ground as Nico calms herself, glowing like her own personal disco. She turns off the light show and gently lowers Nico to her feet, running her hands down her girlfriend’s shoulders. “You gonna listen to me, now?”

 

“Oh, just c’mere, Supergirl,” Nico says, grabbing her by her shirt and pulling her in for a kiss. 

 

Karolina laughs into her mouth, cupping her face and walking her back into the counter. Nico giggles, pushing herself up onto the counter and pulling Karolina in between her legs. She wraps her arms around her shoulders, kissing her soundly, and it’s perfect, perfect, perfect.

 

Eventually, they break apart- reluctantly, mind you- when Molly calls from the other room for Nico’s help with the television. Nico sighs, pressing one last kiss to Karolina’s lips before hopping off the counter and leaving the room.

 

Karolina watches her leave, more than a little lovesick. She’s so glad to have found Nico. There’s nobody else who  _ gets  _ her as much as she does.

 

She continues to clean up the kitchen, singing- off key- as she does so. She’d like to pretend she’s a fantastic singer, but, really, she kind of sounds like a dying cat. But she’s made her peace with it. At least she’s a cute dying cat. The type of dying cat that makes onlookers go,  _ aww, listen at that poor thing, we should call a vet! _

 

Karolina cleans and cleans and cleans, getting sucked into the routine of it all and basically putting herself on Cinderella autopilot. Even after Nico comes in to wish her goodnight and drag her to bed, Karolina gently waves her off, pressing a kiss to her forehead and promising she’ll be up soon. She’s sort of lying, but it makes Nico feel better, so that’s all that matters. 

 

By the time she’s fully, completely satisfied- floor swept and mopped, counters wiped clean, the whole shebang- it’s about 1 AM. The whole house is quiet, which is to be expected, really- until she hears a sound at the doorway, like someone clearing their throat.

 

She whips around, surprised, but relaxes when she sees who it is. “Alex! You’re home! Where have you been off to?”

 

He shrugs, ambling towards her. Actually, you know what, no, not ambles- Alex is a gangler. He walks like his skin doesn’t fit right half the time- never fully comfortable. “Oh, you know, just...out. I needed some time away.”

 

She reaches out, touching his arm and giving him a gentle grin. “I know how that feels. I’m glad you’re back, though.”

 

Alex swallows, then nods, like it pains him. “Yeah, yeah, me, too. Hey, Karrie?”

 

Her eyebrows go up. “Yeah?”

 

“I’m really, really sorry about this.” 

 

Before she can ask what the fuck he’s talking about, he slaps some sort of bracelet onto her wrist- and then suddenly, everything goes dark.

  
  
  
  



	13. You Do It To Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> confrontations, exorcisms, and an old friend making a comeback.

Karolina can’t believe this is happening right now. First, she gets knocked out and has her powers subdued by someone who she thought she could trust- someone she thought was  _ family. _ Then, he starts dragging her through the woods in the dark like she’s some  _ animal- _ like, really, if you’re going to kidnap someone, at least do it right! And, finally, he won’t shut the fuck up. He keeps singing this dumb song, by Radiohead- of all the bands to sing along to during a kidnapping,  _ that’s  _ the one you choose? Honestly, this is, like, blasphemous. 

 

Also, she’s terrified. But it’s easier to treat this more like an inconvenience than a death sentence.

 

_ “Can’t get the stink off,” _ Alex sings, off-key, _ “he’s been hanging around for days, comes like a comet-”  _

 

“Alex, come on,” she says hoarsely, “if you’re gonna kill me, can’t you just do it?”

 

He stops in his tracks, looking back at her and frowning. “Why would I kill you? What would be the point to that?”

 

Karolina shifts onto her elbows- because, yes, Alex is dragging her by the leg right now. His grip is strong, too- almost inhumanly so. “Well, I assumed that the point  _ was  _ to kill me. Why else drag me out to the woods and stick me with this bullshit?”

 

She holds up her hand, rattling the inhibitor bracelet that’s taken away her powers and made her brain feel as though it’s filled to the brim with fog. She can manage, though, for now. Alex makes a face, saying, “That was necessary. And there won’t be any killing, I promise. At least, not for you. You’ll be fine, once we get where we’re going and realize that we’re your  _ real  _ family. Now, if only my sister wasn’t so late all the time…”

 

“Wait, the fuck do you mean, ‘real’ family?” She realizes that she’s cursing an exorbitant amount right now, and that she usually tries to stay away from that, but also, what the fuck is happening right now? 

 

Alex sighs. “Karolina, you can’t honestly believe _ Alex Wilder _ would kidnap one of his best friends. He’s too much of a wuss for that, come on.”

 

“Why are you talking about yourself in the third person...wait...wait.”  _ Fuck. _ How didn’t she realize? How didn’t any of them realize? “Are you- are you one of them?”

 

He smiles, the moonlight hitting his face and making him seem almost otherworldly, which makes sense, considering what she’s just realized. How could she have been so stupid? How long has this been going on? She rifles through her memories, and easily finds incident after incident where Alex acted the exact opposite of himself, and they all just pretended not to notice. Oh, how stupid they’ve been. Alex- or the Gibborim possessing him, more like- seems to know it, too.

 

He gives her a look that one might expect from a cat to the canary in its claws. “Took you long enough.”

 

**__________**

 

Gert wakes up that night to something wet and slimy licking her face. She grimaces and scrambles to sit up, making a disgusted noise as she wipes at her face with her sleeve. “What the fuck, Lace?”

 

Chase groans beside her, curling an arm back around her waist in sleep. It’s sweet, really, but she’s also kind of preoccupied by her dinosaur’s weird ass behaviour. Old Lace seems to be waiting impatiently for her to do something- she keeps looking in the direction of the door, back to Gert, then back to the door again. 

 

Gert frowns, then disentangles herself from Chase’s grip and gets out of bed. Worried, now, she grabs the baseball bat that rests under her bed, shoves on her shoes, and follows Old Lace out the door. 

 

Old Lace leads her down the stairs and out the front entrance, speeding up with every step. By the time they’ve reached the woods, Gert is full on running at breakneck speed and thanking all the stars above that she stuck with her whole Let’s Be An Athlete schtick, because if she was the girl she was six months ago, she’d probably be collapsed on the ground by now. But she’s doing perfectly fine, speeding through the woods- she’s barely even out of breath. 

 

Abruptly, Old Lace comes to a stop, very nearly sending Gert flying as she scrambles to slow down. She manages it, though, digging in her heels and looking around at the clearing. “What is it, girl? What’s here…?”

 

And then she spots it- well, them. Alex is at the other end of the clearing, dragging what looks to be  _ Karolina’s body _ through the flowers. Holy fucking shit, is she dead? What the fuck? What is  _ happening? _

 

“Alex,” she calls, and he whips around, surprised. “The  _ fuck  _ did you do?”

 

He smiles lazily, like she’s just asked him his favourite movie or what he made for supper. “Nothing permanent, I promise. She’ll be perfectly fine by the time I’ve reached PRIDE’s base.”

 

Disgust, rage, and an overwhelming wish to lie down and cry comes over her, then- but she can’t let it overtake her. She needs to save her friend. “You’re- you’re with  _ them?  _ How could you do this? I thought we were family, what ever happened to that? How could you betray us like this, Alex?”

 

“That’s the thing, though. _ I’m not Alex.” _

 

Her brows crease, and her heartbeat goes up to about 2000 from how terrified the words make her feel. “...What?”

 

“You didn’t really think little ole’ Alex Wilder had the balls to kidnap your friend here, did you? Or how about the know-how to help a woman give birth? Oh, please. No, it’s all been me.”

 

The realization hits her like a pile of bricks. “You’re- you’re one of them, aren’t you? One of the Gibbs?”

 

“Aw, don’t be so rude, Gertrude-”

 

“LET MY FRIENDS GO!” Not-Alex rolls his eyes, and Gert turns to Old Lace, realizing how stupid she’s being. “O.L., sic him.”

 

Old Lace bounds towards him, but Not-Alex just laughs, loud and almost maniacal, before starting to glow bright green and shooting up in the air, Karolina in his arms. 

 

“Oh, shit fuck, you have got to be kidding,” she says to herself, looking around for something- anything- to help her out right now. She looks down at the baseball bat in her hand, and, miraculously, gets an idea. Fuck, she hopes this works.

 

Quickly, she reaches down, grabbing a hefty rock off the ground. Not-Alex sees what she’s doing, and laughs again, saying, “Oh, what do you think you’re doing, little one? You’re too weak, and you know it. You’ll either miss, or hurt your friend-”

 

The rock hits him right between the eyes. As soon as he started making fun of her, she’d tossed it in the air and swung as hard as she could, thinking back to all those mornings at the batting cages. Good stance, hands in the right place, perfect balance, a bit of luck, and a strong swing ends up being what sends Not-Alex falling towards the ground faster than she’d ever thought possible. Karolina falls with him, still disoriented but seemingly awake, and Gert calls, “Old Lace, get her!”

 

The dinosaur does as she asks before she can even finish the sentence- benefits of having a telepathic connection with a Deinonychus. Karolina lands semi-safely on Old Lace’s back with a soft groan, then is laid gently on the ground by the dinosaur.

 

Not-Alex isn’t so lucky. 

 

He hits the ground with a loud _ thud, _ and an even louder cry of pain. He’s not glowing anymore as she approaches him, but he  _ is  _ still awake, if only barely. 

 

He blinks up at her, groaning out, “You’re- you’re never going to win. We’re better, stronger-”

 

Gert stomps down on his face with little to no remorse, officially knocking him out. “How’s that for strong, you parasitic _ bitch?” _

 

She stands there for about half a second, hands on her hips as she soaks in this Hero Moment, before Karolina groans a few feet away, and everything comes back to her in an instant.

 

Gert instructs Old Lace to go guard Alex’s unconscious body, before rushing over to Karolina and kneeling down in the grass beside her. “Hey, Karrie.”

 

“Heyyy, Gertiiiee,” she mumbles, seeming more than a little out of it. Luckily, though, from what Gert can see in the light of the moon, she looks pretty okay other than a few scrapes and bruises. Karolina holds up her left hand, shaking the bracelet on her wrist. “Would ya help me take this offfff?”

 

Confused, Gert does as she asks, and her friend breathes a sudden sigh of relief. “Perfect, thank you. Can we go home, now?”

 

Gert looks back at Alex’s unconscious form, realizing that tonight is going to be much, much more eventful than previously planned. “Yeah, Karrie, let’s head back.”

 

**__________**

 

Chase’s brain feels like it’s about to explode. 

 

First, Gert and Karolina charge into the hostel to wake everyone up, screaming their heads off about Alex and Gibborim and possession and a bunch of other crazy shit. Then, once everyone is gathered in the common room, they explain why an unconscious Alex is tied to one of the dining room chairs, and that, actually, he’s not Alex at all- just a parasite wearing his skin. And now, they’re arguing on how to interrogate him. Despite knowing this is Huge News and absolutely fucking crazy- how is it that another person he’s close to has been possessed by one of these things- at least forty percent of Chase just wants to go back to sleep right now. He’s halfway to nodding off already.

 

“I’m sorry, Chase, are we boring you?” Gert’s voice asks, accusatory, and he wakes up immediately. 

 

He shakes himself a little, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just...really late. I’d say we should reconvene in the morning and do all of this then, but-”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you kidding?”

 

“The hell, Chase?”

 

He gestures to Gert, Nico, and Molly, as they’ve just proved his point.  _ “But,  _ I know I’d lose. Does anyone want coffee? I think I should go make some coffee. We’re in for a long night.”

 

~~~~~

 

After getting everyone’s coffee orders, Chase heads to the kitchen, Xavin tagging along to help him. They start up a few pots, because they’re both pretty sure that multiple, very large mugs will be drank from tonight. 

 

Once the drinks have been poured and sweetened appropriately, Chase looks down at the row of six mugs and says, “Now, how are we going to get these out to the girls without-”

 

Suddenly, because this night hasn’t been terrifying enough, apparently, Xavin sprouts an extra arm on each side of their body, like this is something that all normal people can do and not a scene out of horror movie. They grab a mug in each hand and walk out of the kitchen, Chase following behind with the last two mugs, desperately trying to change his expression from disgusted to neutral. 

 

He’s just about managed it by the time they reach the common room- which is good, because it seems the girls have come up with a plan. Karolina will interrogate Not-Alex, with Chase as her muscle-y backup (Molly disagrees with this part of the plan, but apparently lost that battle. Something about her being too young, which she for sure hated to hear). They’ll get as much information as possible, and hopefully bring Alex back. It’s not a very detailed plan, and they all seem to know it- but it’s the best they’ve got. 

 

Gert ushers everyone but Karolina and Chase out of the room to wait outside, and then it’s just the two of them, their possessed friend, and a large glass of ice water to splash on his face to wake him up.

 

“Before we start,” Chase says softly to Karolina, “are you feeling okay?”

 

Karolina shrugs, then winces, like it hurts. “It doesn’t matter right now. I’ll get fixed up later, when Alex is better.”

 

Chase gives her a comforting grin, putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. She sends him a thankful smile in return, then says, “Alright, let’s get this party started, I guess.”

 

She grabs the glass of ice water, throwing it in Not-Alex’s face. He wakes up sputtering and coughing, hacking out a, “The fuck, Karolina?”

 

“Sorry! Well, no, I’m not. You deserved that.” She crosses her arms, tapping her foot. “So,  _ not  _ Alex, how long have you been possessing our friend?”

 

Not-Alex seems to become aware of his surroundings, then, trying to free himself from his restraints. “Let me go, and maybe I will tell you.”

 

“I don’t think so,” Chase says, doing his best to be imposing. “Seems to me like you’re not in much of a place for bartering, so maybe just tell us what you know.”

 

“Oh, but I am! You see, I can do _ this.”  _ Despite his claims, nothing happens. And not ‘nothing’ where it actually means something small occurs,  _ literally  _ nothing happens. Not-Alex looks around in confusion, mumbling, “Huh?”

 

“Trying to go all Buzz Lightyear on us?” Karolina asks, smiling smugly. She turns to Chase saying, “That’ll be pretty difficult with the inhibitor around his wrist, don’t you think, Chase?”

 

Though he hadn’t known about this part of the plan, Chase nods anyway. “Yeah, seems pretty impossible, if you ask me.”

 

Not-Alex groans, jerking around in the chair again, to no avail. “You children are going to regret this.”

 

“Shut up, you parasitic loser,” Chase says, “I’m older than you.”

 

“Well-”

 

_ “Boys, _ please stop with the dick measuring,” Karolina says, then turns back to Not-Alex and commands, “Tell us how long this has been going on,  _ now.” _

 

Not-Alex considers it for a moment, then smirks and says, “No thanks.”

 

Karolina makes a frustrated noise. “Aren’t we supposed to be family or some shit? Isn’t that what you said to me? Well, family doesn’t keep secrets. Families are  _ honest  _ with each other.”

 

Not-Alex tilts his head at her. “But you’re not very honest yourself, Karolina, so how does that work? Would you call keeping your little rendezvous with your father a secret ‘honesty’? Or do you only mean to apply that rule to everyone else?”

 

Karolina opens her mouth to respond, then closes it again, looking away. Chase glares at him, saying, “Hey, all this psychological warfare bullshit isn’t going to work.”

 

Not-Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m not much of a fan of you sticking up for her, either, seeing as you abandoned your friends  _ and  _ refuse to tell that girl out there how you feel-”

 

His eyes go wide in fear. “How do you even-”

 

“Oh, please. It’s clear as day, same as your cowardice. You’re a coward, and Blondie there is a selfish bitch, so-  _ OW!” _

 

Okay, maybe Chase shouldn’t have punched him just then. But it sure felt good. 

 

**__________**

 

This is all so stupid. If it was Molly in there, she’d have every ounce of information she could manage squeezed out of him in less than ten minutes, but noooo, she’s ‘too young’, and ‘this is dangerous’. Stupid older kids acting like she’s some toddler that doesn’t know what she’s doing. Stupid Alex getting stupid possessed by a stupid alien. 

 

Though, she supposes it’s probably not really his fault. How do you fight that kind of thing? 

 

This brings her back to the question that they’ve been worrying over all night, which is, of course, how to get Alex back to normal. They’ve been brainstorming as they wait for Karolina and Chase, but none of them have really come up with anything concrete.

 

“How about an exorcism?” Nico suggests, and they all give her the exact same disgusted look. “What? It could work!”

 

“Could it, Nico?” Gert asks judgmentally, “Could it really? And, besides, that requires a priest, which we do not have, and also a demon to exorcise in the first place, which we also arguably do not have. The Gibb is more of a demon of the moral kind, if you ask me.”

 

“What’s an exorcism?” Xavin asks. “It sounds...painful.”

 

“It’s a Christian thing,” Molly answers. “It’s where they, like, rid the demons from your soul, or whatever. There was a movie.”

 

“One that you were not allowed to watch, last I checked,” Gert says, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

 

Molly ducks her head sheepishly. “I...may have watched it one time when I was home alone.”

 

Gert groans, and Molly thinks,  _ hey, at least I didn’t erase someone’s memory and leave them for dead _ . She can’t  _ say  _ that, because they’re in the middle of an interrogation, and she still isn’t ready. But she’s definitely _ thinking  _ it as Gert replies, “Molls, you know scary movies give you nightmares-”

 

“Guys, can we focus, please?” Nico says, and they both pipe down. “Thank you. Okay, now, do we have any more ideas?”

 

They all go silent, thinking hard. Molly rifles through idea after idea, discarding each one and deeming them too silly, too far-fetched, too dangerous.

 

But then she comes up with something that maybe, just maybe, might work. “What about True Love’s Kiss?”

 

Nico frowns, Gert and Xavin seeming equally confused. “Huh?”

 

“Well, I mean,” Molly starts, feeling a little stupid, but not enough so to stop, “that’s how it always goes, right? Any spell can be broken by True Love’s Kiss, can’t it?”

 

Gert rolls her eyes. “Yeah, in  _ fairytales.  _ This is real life, Molly. And who would we even-”

 

“Oh, come on, like Alex isn’t ass over teakettle for Livvie.”

 

“I have got to say,” Xavin interrupts, “I am not a fan of the mistrust you all seem to have in true love. I travelled across the galaxy for it- how can you tell me it’s not real? I say we go find this Livvie girl, bring her here, and see if it works.” 

 

Nico raises an eyebrow. “But...that prophecy…”

 

Xavin swallows. “Even if it wasn’t meant for me, it was meant for someone. Maybe even...you.”

 

Nico suddenly looks as though she’s been hit over the head with a frying pan. “You- you think?”

 

Xavin shrugs, then nods. “It’s certainly possible. So do you agree, now? Shall we go find Livvie?”

 

Nico nods. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

**__________**

 

Turns out, actually getting ready and leaving takes a little more than just Nico’s agreement. Xavin finds this out when Gert starts up an argument- that, to Xavin, kind of seems like arguing just for the sake of arguing- and does so loudly enough to attract the attention of Chase and Karolina in the other room. Karolina is the only one who comes out, though- presumably because Chase is keeping guard.

  
  


Xavin still feels more than a little idiotic for not realizing sooner about the Gibborim possessing Alex. They’d had their suspicions, but they’d never voiced them, because, honestly? They really thought they were just being paranoid. They have a habit of that- nothing like thousands of years in captivity and an entirely new planet to instill a healthy amount of suspicion of, well, everything. 

 

Eventually, Gert concedes, and they decide that Chase, Karolina, and Nico will stay here, while Gert, Xavin, and Molly head to Livvie’s home. They come to this decision largely because 1) Gert is the only available driver, and 2) Nico would rather die than leave Karolina right now.

 

Xavin understands that, really. If they were in her shoes, they’d feel the same- not that they aren’t worried for Karolina. But it’s...different, now. They no longer feel as though Karolina is their betrothed, their destiny, because really, she’s...not. She’s just a girl- a half-alien girl, maybe, but still. And while Xavin cares for her, they’ve realized that they maybe went a bit overboard with the whole _ soulmate _ thing. 

 

As they leave with Gert and Molly, they watch through the doorway as Nico envelops Karolina in a hug in the next room, seeming like she’ll die if she lets go. Xavin thinks that maybe, just maybe, Karolina has already found a soulmate- and she didn’t even have to travel across the galaxy to find her.

 

Sometimes, love really can be found where you least expect it.

 

**__________**

 

Livvie can’t believe that this is happening right now. It’s 4 o’clock in the fucking morning, and she’d only gotten out of bed because Xerxes was crying, but now she’s dealing with two rumpled looking teenagers who she, unfortunately, knows standing on her doorstep. She’s also still in her pyjamas, because, again, it’s  _ 4 o’clock in the morning. _

 

“What in the hell are you guys doing here?” She turns to Gert, a judgemental look in her eye. “And why is the kid even up this late? Like, are you kidding?”

 

“Listen, I’ve kind of got bigger problems than my bad big-sistering right now, so if you could hear us out?” Livvie narrows her eyes. “Liv, please. I know- I know that you don’t really have any sort of obligation to help us, but Alex is in trouble,  _ big  _ trouble. And you’re the only one who can help.”

 

“Wow, no pressure, huh?” Livvie ducks her head, thinking about how stupid she’s about to be, just for some dumb boy who she happens to be kind of in love with. “...Let me go get my coat.”

 

~~~~~

 

“What am I even supposed to say?” Livvie asks, standing outside of the room where a possessed (because yeah, that’s happening) Alex is being held. “Like, do I just ask him to make out, or some shit? Y’know, this all seems very anti-consent.”

 

Gert hums in agreement. “That’s what I said, but-”

 

“Gert, hush up,” Karolina says, then turns to Livvie. “Listen, you don’t have to kiss him, that’s not really the end goal, here. But you’re the only person Alex has ever felt so strongly about, y’know? Maybe it’s not True Love, but it’s  _ something. _ And  _ something  _ might just be the best that we’ve got.”

 

Livvie bites her lip, then nods. “Okay. I’m ready.”

 

She walks into the room, and immediately changes her mind. She doesn’t turn back, because she’s no coward, but this boy in front of her- that’s not her Alex. That’s not the boy she fell for.

 

But it’s up to her to bring him back, and she’s going to do it. She has to.

 

So she plops down in the chair across from him, acting much more confident than she feels as she says, “Hey. They tell me you’re possessed.”

 

The boy swallows, seeming a lot more nervous than before. “I’m not telling you anything. Just because- just because this host has feelings for you doesn’t mean I’m susceptible to your charms.”

 

Lizzie shakes her head a little. “You’ve got it all wrong, y’know. I don’t need you to tell me much of anything. I just want my boyfriend back.”

 

“I’m your boyfriend?” he says, and she blinks in surprise as she watches him go through some sort of internal struggle. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. It  _ doesn’t.” _

Livvie smirks, leaning forward a little. “You sure about that?”

 

“Y-yes.”

 

“Are you?” She reaches out, brushing her fingertips along his cheekbone, and his eyes fall closed. “Because I don’t know...maybe Alex is stronger than you think. I sure believe in him.”

 

“...You do?” he asks, sounding different than before. More scared. Shaky. 

 

“Of course. I believe in Alex Wilder more than anything in the world.”

 

And then something strange happens. Though his eyes are closed, it’s almost like there’s a battle occurring across the planes of his face, intense and torturous. She reaches out to him, worried, and the moment her hand lands on his shoulder, Alex’s eyes fly open. And they  _ are  _ Alex’s eyes, she’s sure of it.

 

“...Livvie? Is that really you?”

 

Livvie nods, and, not even thinking about it, wraps her arms around him, pressing her lips to his cheek and holding him close. “Don’t you  _ ever  _ do that again!”

 

**__________**

 

Alex kind of feels like he’s dreaming right now. He has to be, right? There’s no way that he’s free. There’s no way they broke him out of that prison, is there? And there’s  _ certainly  _ no way Livvie is here.

 

But she is. Which means the rest of it must be real, too. Despite the odds, they did it. He’s free.

 

**_Not for long…_ **

 

Alex frowns, shaking his head. He must be hallucinating- he  _ must  _ be.

 

“Something wrong?” Livvie asks from her seat beside him. He can’t believe she’s here. 

 

He shakes his head again. “No, all good. Hey, um, when you said ‘boyfriend’...”

 

Livvie swallows, looking away. He’s suddenly glad that after the hugs and celebrations, the rest of them decided to give him and Livvie a moment alone. “Listen, Alex, I- I really care about you, but everything is just...so crazy right now. You know that, I know that, we all know that. When all of this is over, come find me, okay? But I’ve got my own problems, my own people to protect.”

 

Alex nods sadly. “Yeah. yeah, I know. I just wish…”

 

She reaches over and grabs his hand. “Me, too.”

 

They sit there for awhile, enjoying the moment while it lasts, before Livvie clears her throat and says, “I should- I should probably go.”

 

He nods, not really knowing what else to say, and she stands, turning to leave- but before she can, he calls, “Livvie, wait.”

 

She whips back around, and Alex stands, approaching and leaning down to kiss her, acting more confident than he feels. He stops just before touching her lips, so she can rebuke him if she wants to- but she doesn’t. Instead, she meets him halfway, pressing her lips to his in a sweet, gentle kind of kiss that makes him feel both overjoyed, and miserable that he might never get to do this again.

 

Livvie pulls back, then, still cupping his face. “Goodbye, Alex.”

 

“Goodbye, Livvie. If you ever- if you ever need me…”

 

She steps back, giving him a sad smile. “I’ll call.”

 

Her phone dings, then, and she looks down at it before saying, “That’s my ride. I’ll...I’ll see you around, Wilder.”

 

And then she’s gone.

 

**_Poor little weakling, all alone again. She was never going to stay for you anyway, you should’ve known that._ **

 

Oh. So he wasn’t hallucinating.

 

Alex has half a mind to go to his friends in the kitchen and freak the fuck out, but what would that do? It’s not like they have any sort of plan to get rid of this thing permanently.

 

**_No one does. It’s impossible-_ **

 

“Shut the fuck up,” he says out loud, making him grateful that he’s here alone. He rifles through his memories of the past few weeks- but then finds something peculiar, in that they aren’t all his memories. He doesn’t suddenly remember every single thing the Gibb has ever thought or experienced, mind you- but it’s enough. It has to be enough.

 

**_What are you talking about, weakling? You won’t win, you know! I am superior, it’s better if you just give up now-_ **

 

“I thought I told you to shut up?” Alex makes his way over to the light socket, hoping to God that this works as he calls, “Hey, Nico?”

 

The girl makes her way out from the kitchen, coming to stand in the doorway. “Yeah, what’s up?”

 

“I’m gonna need you to cast a spell for me in a minute, ‘kay? Also, please don’t scream.”

 

_ One last thing, _ he tells the parasite wiggling around his skull,  _ you wanna know the best part about this mind meld of ours? It goes both ways, bitch. _

 

And that’s when he sticks his finger in the light socket.

 

**__________**

 

“What the  _ fuck?” _

 

Nico rushes to Alex’s side, kneeling down next to him as he convulses on the ground. She has no fucking idea what to do right now- she doesn’t even have the presence of mind to call for everyone else. All she can do is watch as Alex’s body settles, his mouth suddenly opening so wide it seems almost inhuman.

 

A blue-ish green light floats out of his open mouth, no bigger than a tennis ball and wispy as an apparition. It starts to twist and turn lazily in the air, as if looking for something. All of a sudden, Nico understands what Alex meant when he said she’d have to cast a spell.

 

She holds out the staff, taking a deep breath, then saying,  **_“Pandora’s box!”_ **

 

In her other hand, an engraved, fancy looking box pops into existence, the top flying open. The light gets sucked into it with a fizzling noise, and it snaps shut, locking automatically. She holds it close as she jostles Alex awake, saying, “Your crazy plan worked, asshole. Try not scaring the life out of me, next time?”

 

Alex shakes his head groggily, croaking out a, “Sorry, Neeks. But, hey, at least my guess was right? I found their weakness.  _ Electricity.  _ They’re- they’re like energy vampires or some shit, but- but there’s such a thing as  _ too  _ full, even for all-powerful aliens, and-”

 

“Alex, dude, as interesting as this all is, can we wait until you’re not half-fried for you to explain it?” She’d also prefer it if they waited until they all felt like human beings again and not warmed over garbage, because right now, all she wants to do is sleep, not think about a plan of attack.

 

He sighs, pushing himself into a sitting position. “Yeah, okay. Hey, Nico?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Why Pandora’s box?”

 

“Because,” she says, looking down at the box and tracing the engravings with one finger. “It’s the only thing I could think of that requires someone else to let its contents escape. The only reason war and pestilence and illnesses came is because Pandora went and opened up the box and let them out. And that’ll never happen, because no one is ever going to find this thing. I’ve got a little hide-away where I can put it.”

 

Alex looks down at his lap, then nods. “Sounds like a plan. And I just wanna say- thank you. For saving me.”

 

Nico grins, reaching out and touching his arm. “Of course. I’d do anything for my family.”

  
  


  
  


 


	14. Shall We Start Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How To Heal: a beginner's guide.

“Does that hurt?”

 

Alex shakes his head, then winces at what Gert supposes is a headache. “Not- not what you’re doing, no.”

 

“Okay, good,” Gert responds as she continues to gently wipe his face with the warm cloth. It’s kind of early- ‘kind of’ used loosely, seeing as it’s 10 AM- so the two of them are the only ones awake. After the whole...ordeal that was last night, Alex had pretty much collapsed and slept like the dead, until twenty minutes ago, when he’d stumbled into the kitchen looking for coffee. His face is pretty wrecked, and Gert can’t help but feel a little guilty- so, here they are. “Ick, you are  _ fucked,  _ man. I really am sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” Alex heaves a sigh. “I deserved it.”

 

Gert snorts. “Well, not  _ you-  _ just the extra-terrestrial possessing you. But same diff, right?”

 

“How fucked up is it that this is all just, like, normal for us?”

 

“About as fucked up as your eye.” Alex snorts, and she swats at him lightly for moving. She’s not just slapping this shit on and calling it a day- if she’s bandaging him up, she’s going to do it right. 

 

For the next little while, it’s quiet, save for the sounds of Band-Aids being ripped open and the occasional yelp of pain from Alex. He’s such a wimp.

 

Okay, maybe that’s not fair. Really, she thinks he’s very brave for going to the lengths that he did to rid himself of the Gibborim- not that she’ll ever say it out loud. Gert doesn’t talk about her feelings towards others like that, even ones of pride or appreciation. It just feels...wrong. Best to keep everything bottled up, right? Right.

 

As she wraps Alex’s wrist with an Ace bandage, Gert starts to sing under her breath, not really thinking about it. It’s just too silent in here- she needs something to keep her mind occupied.  _ “You were born in a palace by the sea...A palace by the sea, could it be?...Yes, it's so. You rode horseback when you were only three...Horseback riding? Me?...Horse's name? Romeo-” _

 

“What’s that song?”

 

Gert blushes, avoiding his eyes. “Oh, it’s dumb. You’ll think it’s dumb.”

 

“Wow, such faith. Come on, I recognize it from somewhere, and I’m not gonna drop it until you tell me-”

 

“Oh, fine, asshole,” she says grumpily. “It’s from Anastasia, okay? There’s a- there’s a Broadway version? And it was, well, I used to be in Drama club, so...yeah. I wasn’t really- I mean, it’s just a dumb song-”

 

Though she hadn’t noticed until now, Alex has been grinning wider and wider from the moment she started talking. “Oh my God, I  _ love  _ Broadway.”

 

Her brows crease. “You’re fucking with me.”

 

“No! No, I’m not!” Surprisingly, he actually seems sincere. “My mom- my mom was a big broadway fan. There used to be a picture of Aaron Tveit on our fridge...oh. What do you think happened to my parents’ house now that they’re in prison?”

 

Gert frowns, suddenly wondering about her own house. Is her unfinished physics homework still sitting on her bed where she left it? Are all her posters still stuck on the walls? Or would they have been taken down, thrown out? “I...I don’t know.”

 

It’s bizarre to think about the remnants of their old lives in this way. When she thinks back, usually, it’s about the people- her parents, her classmates, her teachers. She doesn’t often think about her house, but now, she wonders what became of it. Did her mother, alone and stranger than ever before, decide to leave it? Does it stand empty, now, save for all the objects that belonged to the life of the girl she used to know? Like the coffee table that she used to always stub her toe on, or her prized book collection, or even her old hairbrush- what happened to them? 

 

She posits this to Alex, albeit in a much more mumbling, less detailed fashion, and all of a sudden, his face turns guilty. Her brows crease. “What is it?”

 

Alex swallows. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

 

_ Huh? _ “Uh, yes I do.”

 

“No, you don’t.”

 

Oh, so he’s going to play  _ this  _ game? “Yes, I  _ do.” _

 

He looks away from her, then, almost as if he can’t bear to look at her as he says, “It’s...it’s about your mom.”

 

A thousand nightmare scenarios run through her mind at once, ranging from her being dead to her being perfectly fine- two completely opposite ends of the spectrum that somehow make her feel the exact same amount of dread. But nothing could have prepared her for what Alex says next. He clears his throat, then tells her, rushed and quiet, “Your mom is one of the Gibbs. Or, got possessed by one of the Gibbs. I dunno. Well, yes I do. She’s definitely one of them. I’m sorry.”

 

Gert wants desperately to be shocked right now. But somehow, it makes sense. The moment he says it, everything starts to click into place. She realizes, now, why her father said Mom was ‘different’. He hadn’t meant just a change in behaviour- even if he hadn’t known the specifics, the woman he’d married was a completely different person, and he could tell. 

 

It should probably hurt, to learn that her mother has been taken away and probably isn’t ever coming back. And it does, a little. But in the same way that a papercut might hurt, or a splinter. More of a dull ache, than anything. It’s probably sad, from an existential standpoint, that Gert can’t muster up any sort of real pain towards her relationship with her parents, gone adrift and all but dead, by now. One erased and one possessed, and she can barely pity them- her feelings towards what she did to her father have nearly always been  _ how could I do this to another person  _ and not  _ how could I do this to my  _ **_dad._ ** It’s…different. They’re relationship has  _ always  _ been different. She doesn’t know why she’s never felt the way the others do towards their parents- as soon as she realized that they really had hurt all those people, they became irredeemable in her eyes. People don’t change- didn’t she tell Chase that, once?

 

“...Gert?”

 

She’s tugged back to reality, then, blinking hard and shaking her head to clear her mind. “Sorry. Just...thinking, I guess. I know you’re- you’re probably expecting me to be sad, right? I know that’s- that’s probably how I should feel. But...she killed people, Alex. I’m sorry, but that just sounds like penance, to me.”

 

“It doesn’t scare you that we might have to fight her eventually?”

 

Gert looks away, unable to tell him that, actually, she’s done a hell of a lot worse than just fight a parent. She still hasn’t told any of the others where she was all that time- Chase not included. Though she knows it would probably be better to just rip off the Band-Aid at this point,  _ especially  _ with Molly-but she just can’t bring herself to do it. It’s too scary, okay? And she’s terrified of what they’ll all think of her- Gert Yorkes, mindwiper, Gert Yorkes, the patricidal murderer. 

 

In a small, haunted voice, Gert whispers, “I’ve done worse.”

 

**__________**

 

“Hey, babe, wake up,” a voice says gently, shaking her shoulder. Karolina groans, pressing her face deeper into the pillow, and she hears Nico- because who else would it be, right?- huff out a laugh. “Come on, I made you breakfast and everything.”

 

_ Food?  _ Karolina flops over on her back, cracking open an eye suspiciously. Nico is standing beside the bed, holding a tray laden with pancakes, baked beans, and a tall glass of apple juice.  _ Food! _

 

“Okay, fine, I guess,” she grumbles, struggling to sit up. Yesterday really did a number on her. Nico hands her the tray, then sits down on the side of the bed. Karolina digs in, asking, “Did you make all this?”

 

“Yes- and don’t talk with your mouth full.” For all her efforts towards the contrary, Nico really does sound like her mother sometimes. 

 

Karolina swallows the bite she’s just taken, saying, “Sorry. And, um, thank you- I really appreciate it. And you. I feel like- I feel like I don’t say that enough, sometimes? But I do. You’re- you’re the  _ best,  _ Nico. I’m so glad I have you, y’know.”

 

“I’m glad I  _ still  _ have you,” Nico says, the words rushing out of her mouth. “Yesterday was  _ terrifying.” _

__

Karolina’s shoulders bunch up, and she looks away. Last night was scary in ways that she doesn’t know how to articulate, yet. She’s lucky to be alive, if she’s honest, and she doesn’t really know how to handle that thought. What would she have done if Gert had shown up too late?  _ Died, probably. Or worse.  _ “I’d really prefer not to talk about the nightmare that was last night, if that’s okay? I mean, I- I will, just...not yet.”

 

Nico gives her a gentle smile, reaching out and taking her hand. “That’s fine, Karrie. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready.”

 

She relaxes immediately, giving her a grateful look. “Thanks.”

 

“Always, babe. So, um...do we have any plans today? Or are we just, like, laying around? I’m cool with whatever.”

 

Suddenly, Karolina’s eyes widen, and she gives Nico a wicked little grin. “I’ve got an idea.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Karolina, I am  _ not  _ a fan of these nail polish colour names,” Gert tells her as she inspects the bottles, one by one. The two of them, plus Nico, Xavin, and Molly are having an impromptu spa day while Chase gets groceries and Alex naps, per Karolina’s request. Nothing makes her feel better than a fresh mani- even if Gert is trying to ruin it via feminism. “Like, Pucker Up Pink? Girls Gone Wild Green? Come  _ on!” _

 

“Gert, babes, the beauty industry is always going to be sexist. It’s how they make bank. Now, are you going with Want My Bawdy Blue or Come To Bed Red?”

 

Gert rolls her eyes. “Both of those are terrible. Gimme the blue one.”

 

Karolina hands her the bottle, and as she starts to twist it open, there’s a knock at the door. Alex is standing there, teetering from one foot to the other nervously. “U-uh, hey, Karolina, can we talk?”

 

Karolina swallows, then nods.  _ Don’t be scared. He can’t hurt you, that wasn’t him, don’t be scared. _ She stands, ignoring Nico’s whispered protests as she meets him at the door, closing it behind her to guard from curious ears. “What’s up?”

 

Alex swallows, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking away nervously. “I just, um, I wanted to check in, y’know. See if you’re doing okay.”

 

“I’m fine. Ish. I’m not as beat up as you, so-”

 

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean physically. Well, yes, I did, because I care about you and your wellbeing, but I was more asking if you, um, if you hate me now. You probably should, I mean…” he trails off, his expression making it seem like he’s about to puke at any moment. 

 

Karolina reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezing tight. “Alex, I don’t hate you. Never think that, okay? Nobody here hates you for what happened- it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right? That it wasn’t your fault?”

 

He screws his mouth up. “I...I guess…”

 

“Alex,” she says seriously, putting her hands on his shoulders, “Repeat after me: getting possessed was not your fault.”

 

“Getting possessed was not my fault…” he mumbles, and she gives him a (well meaning) glare. In a stronger tone, he says, “Getting possessed was not my fault.”

 

“Good. Good. the more you say it, the closer you get to believing it. Repetition helps, I promise.” She gives him a supportive smile, more confident than she feels, and Alex gives her a hesitant grin in return. She lets go of his shoulders, then, asking, “Hey, do you wanna join in on spa day? I can do a  _ mean _ manicure.”

 

He squints at her, amused. “I’ve never had my nails painted before.”

 

“Listen, listen, best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago- second best time is today. Ancient Dean proverb.”

 

He rolls his eyes goodnaturedly as Karolina tugs him into her room, saying, “That is definitely not of White Californian origin, K. Pilgrims just aren’t that creative.”

 

“Pilgrims aren’t creative, full stop,” Gert calls, waving them over, “it’s why Karrie failed Drama class and Chase dances like he’s a dad at a barbecue wearing wraparound sunglasses.”

 

Karolina makes an offended noise, and Nico comes to her defense, saying, “Gert, your mom is so white that she can’t step outside without SPF 90. Pipe down.”

 

Molly cuts in with an offended gasp before Gert can respond. “Mom is not a Pilgrim. We’re Russian, get it right.”

 

Gert rolls her eyes.  _ “I  _ am Russian,  _ you’re _ adopted. Well, half-Russian, half-Latina, but-”

 

“May I just say,” Xavin interrupts, “that I have no clue what any of the words you guys are saying mean?”

 

While the group does their best to give them a history lesson, Karolina takes Alex’s hands and starts painting his nails, using the appropriately named Girls Gone Wild Green that Gert was making fun of earlier. He’s a fidgeter, so it’s a little difficult, but it’s fun all the same. By the time his nails are dry, and Molly has started putting bows in his hair, he looks a hell of a lot happier than when he walked in- and, just as importantly, Karolina doesn’t feel like a pile of flaming sludge anymore. 

 

She should’ve guessed that hanging out with her family would be so healing. 

 

**__________**

 

Molly has always been of the opinion that shopping is the very best way to make yourself feel better. In the past, this has been applied to her normal, everyday grievances- a bad grade, an embarrassment at school. But it should work to help your friend feel better post-alien possession, too, right?

 

So, here they are, hanging out at the most hole in the wall comic book store she could find. They’d all agreed that Alex needed to get out of the house today- well, all of them except the boy himself. She’s pretty sure that he’d just mope around all day if they let him, which is exactly why they can’t. There are some people who you can leave alone until they’re ready to deal with their emotions- Alex Wilder is  _ not  _ one of them. If he’s given any kind of grace period, he’ll take it and run off with it until they find him a week from now hiding under his bed elbow deep in a bag of Cheetos.

 

“Molly, oh my gosh, they have the old Teen Titans comics! Man, I used to love these as a kid.” He holds up an issue, a bright green teenage boy and a robot dude high fiving on the cover. “BeastBoy And Cyborg were my favourite- I like StarFire, too, though- oh, and Raven, and- okay, maybe I just like all of them.”

 

He’s got this big, goofy smile on his face as he flips through the comic, and Molly looks over to her sister- who’s looking at the Archies with her ‘not’ boyfriend- to trade a proud look with her. Gert gives her a wink, the type that always means,  _ good job, kid!  _ Molly sends her a pained smile, not really sure what else to do.

 

Molly loves her sister. She promises, she does. It’s just harder to love someone once you know that they took it upon themselves to, for all intents and purposes, murder her father.

 

She turns back to Alex, then, because today is for  _ him, _ not for her to wallow. “So what’s so good about Teen Titans? I mean, Robin doesn’t even have superpowers.”

 

Alex gapes at her. “Uh, yes he  _ does. _ He’s a champion gymnast! He works with  _ Batman!” _

 

“Al, Batman’s superpower is just, like, money.”

 

He chews on that for a moment, seeming like he wants to disagree but not knowing how. “Hmm, okay, fair. But still, I like the Bat-Fam, y’know, Bruce and Dick and Jason and Barbara and Stephanie and Cass and Damian and Duke and-”

 

_ “Dude. _ There’s no way Bruce Wayne has that many kids.” In fact, from what she remembers, he doesn’t have  _ any. _ But maybe she’s just behind on the times?

 

“Oh, he doesn’t.”  _ Knew it. _ “Damian is the only one that’s, like, actually related to him. He just kinda takes in strays, but it’s not, like, Bruce the Cat Lady, or whatever- it’s more of a found family dynamic. That’s why I like those stories- even though there’s a ton of crazy, dangerous stuff going on, they’re still a family, even if they’re not related. They care about each other, and they- they save each other. They’re always saving each other. Because that’s- that’s what family  _ does, _ y’know?”

 

Though he doesn’t say it out loud, Molly knows what he’s trying to tell her. She reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing tightly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

 

~~~~~

 

Oh, this is bad. 

 

Gert is flirting with some guy on the other side of the store, twirling her hair and giggling and impressing him with little-known facts, and this is very, very bad. 

 

The reason it’s bad is solely because Chase also happens to be in the room- right next to Molly, actually, which means she has a front row view to how absolutely wracked with jealousy he looks right now. Wait, now that she thinks about it, this might be an opportunity in disguise. Wouldn’t a bit of karmic revenge be nice today?  _ Time to stir the pot.  _ She nudges him lightly, eyebrows raised. “Dude, not your job anymore, remember?”

 

Through clenched teeth, Chase responds, “Yes, I am very, very aware.”

 

Gert giggles again, and his hands curl into fists. Why was Molly so worried, again? This perfect opportunity has just been handed to her on a silver platter, and she’s totally not wasting it. She nudges him again, trying not to smile as she asks, “You doing alright?”   
  


Chase takes in a long, slow, breath, as if to calm himself- it doesn’t seem to work. “Just fine.”

 

“Then let’s go over! I wanna meet Gert’s new friend!” She grabs him by the arm and starts to pull him with her, ignoring his adamant protesting as she uses some of her extremely handy super-strength to drag him with her. 

 

“This is a bad idea, please stop,  _ Molly-” _

 

“Oh, hey, guys!” Molly says as they reach Gert and her new friend, cheery and full of false innocence. “What are we talking about?”

 

Gert shoots her a decidedly peeved look, but Molly ignores it. The benefit of being seen as everyone’s little sister is that she’s constantly underestimated, so usually her friends don’t catch on when she’s fucking with them. This is not one of those times. Gert is very, very aware of the stunt Molly is pulling, but, unfortunately, she can’t do anything to stop it, unless she wants to cause a scene. So she pastes on a politely pained smile, saying, “Oh, y’know. Just, um, whether Disney’s  _ Hunchback of Notre Dame _ can be classified as a good movie.”

 

The guy, completely oblivious to both Gert’s change in mood and any of the nuance to this conversation, grins charmingly. “I say it’s not a proper adaptation, but she keeps saying that Hunchback is all about adaptations, and that Hugo would probably really like the movie, and a bunch of other super smart stuff.”

 

He sends her a warm look, and Gert blushes redder than a cherry tomato. “Thanks, Earl. that’s- that’s really sweet.”

 

It is to be noted that Chase looks like his head is about to pop right off. His arms are crossed, and his jaw is clenched so tight that his teeth must hurt. In a tone that could honestly be mistaken for a growl, he says, “I really like that movie.”

 

Gert smiles politely. “That’s nice.”

 

Uh-oh. Is Gert, like, actually interested in this Earl dude? She can’t be. There’s no way, right? She has to put a stop to this. Even if she’s angry with her sister, she still owes it to her to save her from this hipster douchebag.

 

“Isn’t it? Hey, Earl, did you know Gert and my friend Chase here used to date?”

 

_ “Molly!”  _ Gert and Chase exclaim in unison, both mortified. Molly shrugs innocently, then shoots her sister a smirk no longer than a second, smug and a little evil.

 

Earl’s brows crease. He turns to Gert, seeming a little uncomfortable.  _ Good. _ “Is that true?”

 

“No!” Gert rushes to say, eyes wide. “Well, yes. But not anymore. So it doesn’t matter, not really.”

 

Beside her, Chase swallows. “It- it doesn’t? How can you even-”

 

“Oh, don’t do that, you left me, remember? You’re not allowed to act all-”

 

“I think I’m quite entitled to my emotions, actually- Molly, don’t even think about leaving, you conniving little-”

 

“Don’t call my sister conniving!”

 

“Well, don’t flirt with some hipster, Jack Anto-knockoff douchebag right in front of my face, then!” Chase turns to Earl, who is still standing not five feet away, kind of seeming like he’s got elevator music playing in his head. “No offense.”

 

“None taken. I’m gonna...go…” he speeds off, and Gert stares after him, distressed. 

 

She whips back around, giving Chase a truly scathing death glare. “I. Cannot. Believe. You.” 

 

Molly laughs awkwardly, stepping away slowly and saying, “Well, this has been fun, but we should probably-”

 

“Ohhh, nooo, you’re in for it, too, Ms. Most Unsubtle To Ever Be Unsubtle. Are you kidding me? What was the-”

 

“Kids, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” a reedy voice says from behind them, and they all turn around to find a pimply, gangling twenty-something standing there with his arms crossed. He’s got about six bajillion piercings, and none of them look good. “Take the argument outside, you’re disturbing the customers.”

 

They get shuffled out of the store in a truly embarrassing Walk of Shame, Alex catching up to them just as they reach the door, bag of purchases in hand. “Oh my God, what happened now?”

 

Molly leans over to him as they leave the store and head for the car, stage-whispering, “Gert and Chase are having a lover’s quarrel.”

 

“I heard that,” Gert cuts in as they all pile into the car. Molly claims shotgun immediately, which means Gert and Chase are forced into the backseat together as Alex sits down behind the wheel. “Please go fuck yourself.”

 

“Oh, so you can tell the fifteen year old to go fuck herself, but when I call her conniving  _ when she’s being conniving-” _

 

_ “OKAY!” _ Alex shouts, and they all startle. “New rule: neither of you are allowed to talk this entire car ride, or we go right back in there, and you both use your share of spending money for the month to buy me the biggest fucking action figure they sell. Argue all you want once we get home, I don’t care, just not where I can hear you, you  _ assholes.” _

 

They both mumble their apologies, slumping back into their seats as Molly flicks on the radio and Alex pulls out of the parking lot.

 

It is a very, very awkward ride home.

 

**__________**

 

Nico is making out with her girlfriend, and there’s not one thing in the entire world that could pull her away from her right now. Nope, not one thing. Even though Gert, Chase, Molly, and Alex have just gotten home, and she can hear an absolute fuckton of yelling, she’s just gonna keep kissing Karolina.

 

She runs a hand through her hair, pulling her fingers through the buttercup coloured strands, and Karolina giggles into her mouth. Oh, how she loves that sound. Desperate for more of that breathy, hoarse laugh, Nico starts kissing down her neck, not caring that she’s getting black lipstick all up and down her girlfriend’s skin. It’s kind of hot, actually. But this elicits a different kind of sound from her, more of a moan, deep and-

 

More yelling. Nico groans, mumbling against her neck, “Fuck, I hate them.”

 

“Just- just ignore it,” Karolina breathes. “Please.”

 

Nico, unable to say no when she talks like that, nods a little, nipping at her collarbone, then pressing a light kiss in the same spot. And there it is, that breathy little giggle, the one that makes her entire body feel like it’s going to-

 

Even  _ more  _ yelling. Nico pulls off of her, sitting up. “Jesus fucking Christ. Jesus fucking Christ, I have to go deal with that, don’t I?”

 

Karolina pouts at her. “I think you do, babe.”

 

Nico leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips, then hops off the bed. “I’ll be back.”

 

“Take your time,” Karolina says, stretching, “I think I’m gonna go shower. Gotta get this lipstick off my neck, somehow.”

 

As she backs out of the doorway, Nico shoots her a cocky smirk. “I happen to think you look hot.”

 

Karolina rolls her eyes. “Babe, you always think I look hot.”

 

Nico winks at her. “Also true!”

 

~~~~~

 

“What the hell is going on here?” She asks as she storms into the room, staff in hand and still fixing her hair. The one downside to making out with Karolina is that it always messes up her carefully styled hair- totally worth it, though. Gert and Chase are standing not five feet from each other, arms crossed and faces twisted in anger. Oh, so it’s  _ that  _ type of fight. “Why are you screaming at each other?”

 

“Well,” Gert starts, already gesturing angrily, the way she does when she’s  _ really  _ mad, “somebody thought it would be a good idea to barge his way into my conversation acting all macho-”

 

“Oh, come on, that’s not even what happened, Molly practically dragged me over, and it’s not like your stupid new boyfriend is much to compare to in the way of manliness-”

 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, like you know anything about manliness, just because you used to be on some fucking lacrosse team doesn’t mean you’re suddenly the epitome of-”

 

**_“Room of Requirement.”_ ** Nico kind of hates using Harry Potter spells, useful though they may be, but this time, it’s necessary. As the walls of the room start to shimmer, Nico books it out of there before either of them have the time to react, just clearing the exit as what was once a cased opening melts into an ornate, golden vault door. 

 

As she catches her breath, she hears them start to bang on the walls, but it’s not going to be any use. The parameters of the spell are for the room to be what Nico needs it to be, and what she needs it to be is inescapable until they sort out their shit. They’ll realize that soon enough. 

 

“Oh, thank God.”

 

She turns around, finding Alex standing not ten feet from her with a huge grin on his face. He starts making his way towards her, asking “Did you lock them in there? Please tell me you locked them in there.”

 

Nico nods. “I did indeed.”

 

He laughs, scooping her up in a hug and twirling her around as she squeals, “Put me down put me down put me _ down-” _

 

He does so, placing her on the ground but refusing to let go. “Fine, you big baby. Anyway, thank you. I think that’s the best thing anyone’s done for me all day. And that’s saying a lot, seeing as you guys are acting like it’s my birthday, or something.”

 

She smirks up at him, trying her best to seem cool even though she’s still trapped in his arms. “Caught onto that one, huh?”

 

“You guys aren’t subtle. Hey, do you wanna come play Street Fighter with me?”

 

She grins, nodding. “Of course.”

 

**__________**

 

“That’s not going to work, you know.” Gert says from behind him as Chase tries his hardest to get the door open. “She definitely did some magic fuckery.”

 

He shoves the door again, grunting, and she scoffs at him. “Stop that. You sound like a wild boar.”

 

“Oh, yeah, right, sure, at least I’m  _ trying, _ you’re just sat there on the couch not doing shit-”

 

“Because I know what you’re doing is stupid! Just like everything else you’ve done today.” Okay, ouch. 

 

He turns around, crossing his arms. “That’s not fair.”

 

Gert pushes herself up off the couch, stomping towards him and getting right in his face. “Isn’t it? You’ve been acting like you don’t have two brain cells to rub together since you woke up this morning, like, what was even the point of getting so pissed about me talking to some  _ guy!” _

 

“Because I’m getting kind of sick of having to watch you ‘talk’ with everybody but  _ me,” _ he says, using air-quotes just to get his passive-aggressive point across. “First Ty, now this asshole-”   
  


Gert makes an angry, frustrated noise. “Oh my God, how could you even think I was interested in  _ Ty?” _

 

_ Wait, she wasn’t?  _ “You guys were all over each other! What was I supposed to think?”

 

“I don’t know, but not fucking that!” God, she’s so close right now. He knows it’s only to yell at him, but still. He kind of feels like he’s going to suffocate. “For one, Ty is head over heels for Tandy, anyone with eyes could see that, and for two, why is it any of your business? You broke up with me, remember? You don’t get to be jealous!” 

 

His heart feels like it’s breaking into itty bitty pieces right now,  _ fuck. _ Blinking away tears, he responds, “Well, sorry, but I’ve been finding it kind of hard to just  _ stop, _ so-”

 

“And why’s that?”

 

“Because-”  _ it’s kind of hard to stop being in love with the girl of your dreams-  _ “I just can’t! I just can’t, okay?” 

 

“No, not okay, don’t give me shitty non-answers, tell me the fucking truth, for once, would you? Why can’t you just-”

 

_ “Because I’m in love with you!” _

 

The words come out rushed, and a little panicked, but it’s still a huge, huge weight off his chest. For months he’s kept this from her, and now, he doesn’t have to anymore- consequences be damned. 

 

And oh, there’s definitely going to be consequences, considering the look on Gert’s face. She looks absolutely shell-shocked.  _ “...What?” _

 

“I- I’m in love with you. That’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. Well, second, I guess.” He says it again, enjoying how it sounds. “I’m in love with you. That’s three. I’m in love with you. Four. I’m in-  _ mrph!” _

 

Gert grabs the front of his shirt, tugging him in and kissing him, intense and passionate and a little messy. It’s the most perfect kiss to end all perfect kisses, he’s sure of it. His hands move to cup her face, and she hums into his mouth, sounding content, which is all Chase has ever wanted, really. For her to be happy.  _ He’s  _ happy- he’s probably the happiest he’s ever been in his entire life. Nothing else-  _ nobody else- _ could make him feel this way, like he could climb Mount Kilimanjaro without breaking a sweat, or-

 

And then he realizes that his hands are getting wet, which means Gert must be crying, which means that he’s done something to make her cry. Fuck. he pulls back with a wet  _ pop, _ a little bit frantic as he asks, “What is it, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing, nothing,” Gert responds, voice choked and eyes filled to the brim with tears.  _ Yeah, right. _ “I just- you mean it?”

 

Oh.  _ Oh. _ It didn’t occur to him that she wouldn’t believe him- he’s been in love with her so long that it just became an integral part of who he is, so much so that it didn’t even cross his mind that she would think it was anything other than the truth. He strokes her cheek, gentle as he can manage as he says, “Of course, Gert. I’m ass over teakettle in love with you, okay? Have been for a long time.”

 

She blinks, surprised. “Really?”

 

Chase nods. “Yeah. I mean, how could I not be, right? You’re the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met. You’re smart, and funny, and passionate, and caring- and I’m in love with you. Man, I love saying that out loud.”

 

Gert sniffles, leaning in again- but for a hug, this time. She buries her face in his chest, and just starts _ sobbing.  _ He’s not entirely sure why she’s crying, but this doesn’t seem like a good time to ask, so he just holds her, running his hand up and down her back. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring, “It’s okay, love, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

 

She laughs wetly into his shirt, then looks up at him, grinning. But when she meets his eyes, the smile fades, and she swallows, hard. “Um, I, um…”

 

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to,” he says quickly, and her expression immediately turns to relief, to which Chase can only laugh. “Wow, that fast, huh?”

 

She scoffs at his teasing. “Oh, come on, how would you feel if your ex hit you with the _ I love you  _ card in the middle of an argument? It’s- it’s a lot of pressure, okay?”

 

She pulls back, crossing her arms, and Chase sighs, taking a step towards her and closing the distance between them once again. “Gert, that’s why I told you you don’t have to say it back unless you want to. No pressure at all whatsoever. We can- we can do this however you want, remember?”

 

Gert meets his eyes, giving him a watery smile. “I...I like the sound of that.”

 

“Me, too.” He leans in, brushing his nose against hers and softly asking, “This okay?”

 

“It’s more than okay.” And then they’re kissing again. It’s gentler than before, less frantic but no less passionate. Their mouths hit together like they were made for it, and maybe they were. Because, really, if anybody’s his soulmate, it’s Gert. 

 

They stay there for a while, so absorbed in kissing each other that nothing else matters. The entire world fades away, and Chase is perfectly fine with it. 

 

Eventually, though, they pull apart for air, still so close that he can feel her breath, hot and a bit laboured, against his lips. He wants to kiss her again. He  _ should  _ kiss her again. 

 

He leans in to do just that, but before he can, Gert says, “Oh, hey, look, we can leave, now.”

 

Chase’s eyes flick around the room, landing on the now open doorway, and he huffs a laugh. He meets her eyes again, shooting her a grin that’s more than a little lovesick. “Huh. I guess getting out of here wasn’t as hard as we thought.”

 

“Nope,” Gert says, getting up on her tiptoes-  _ cute- _ to peck him on the mouth, “not very hard at all.”

 

**__________**

 

Alex thinks that a warm, home-cooked meal is probably the best cure for sadness ever thought up by modern man. Not cooked by him, mind you- if you ask Karolina, or somebody, she’d probably say that knowing you’re the one who put all the effort in makes it taste way better, but, honestly? Alex is too lazy for that. He’s not lazy at all, usually- he considers himself pretty on the ball most of the time. But food-wise? Nah. It always tastes better when someone else makes it for you, every single time.

 

Which is why he’s so happy to be sat at the dining table right now, digging in to what is, to be quite frank, a literal feast. Apparently Molly spent her afternoon putting this together by herself, for which every person at the table has sung their thanks for at one point or another during the meal. 

 

Usually, when he eats with his friends- no, family- he’s always felt a little left out. Logically, he should feel the same today- especially since something of the romantic sense has clearly happened between Gert and Chase, from the way they’re leaning into each other and holding hands under the table. But he just...doesn’t. He feels included, part of the conversation, a valued member of the party. Well, not party, because this isn’t Dungeons and Dragons- but they should totally play Dungeons and Dragons soon. Wait, he should suggest that, maybe.

 

“Hey, guys,” he starts, and the entire table turns to him. God, that feels nice. “Do you want to play D&D, soon? I think I saw a Player’s Handbook somewhere around, and I was just thinking that it could be fun, maybe?”   
  


Gert gasps, excited, face breaking into a grin. Beside her, Alex sees Chase’s eyes go even more lovey-dovey than they’ve been all night, which is totally saying something. She taps her fingers against the table in an enthusiastic manner, saying, “Oh my gosh, totally. I call being a bard. They’re so fun to play as- ooooh, do you think I could be a Dragonborn?”

 

Xavin, who’s sitting on Alex’s left side, shoots him an extremely confused look. “Er, what’s a Dee-En-Dee?”

 

“I’d like to know that, too, actually,” Karolina asks, holding up a hand like a fifth grader in math class. Beside her, Nico shrinks into her chair, like if she makes herself small enough Alex will just forget about the D&D club they were both a part of in middle school.

 

Alex smirks, sending Nico a knowing look. “Ask your girlfriend, K. Nico will know what I’m talking about- or should I say...Bizorwyn the Brave?”

 

“I hate you, did you know that I hate you?”

 

“Aw, come on,” Molly says, “be nice…Bizorwyn.”

 

Nico attempts to jump straight across the table to lunge for Molly’s throat, but Karolina grabs her by the back of her shirt before she can. Alex bursts out laughing, loud and more free than he’s felt since that night at the digsite. Nico starts, “Hey, stop-”

 

Karolina swats her lightly, giggling herself, and soon all seven of them are laughing without a care. It gets to the point where Alex almost forgets what they’re laughing about- except that he doesn’t, because he’s not randomly losing memories, anymore. Those days are done. 

 

He’s with his family, he’s safe, and those days are  _ done. _


	15. All We'll Ever Have

Chase thinks that his life has been on quite the uptick, lately.

 

First, Ty and Tandy finally left, then Alex got de-possessed, and then he and Gert...well. He’s pretty sure they’re not Officially back together, but they sure are...something. It’s a weird sort of grey area, where they sleep in the same bed and make out sometimes, but it’s become clear in the last little while that them being...whatever they are isn’t something Gert wants the others to know about. And he’s fine with that, for the most part. Even if he thinks it’s incredibly stupid. 

 

Not that  _ she’s  _ stupid- Gert is the smartest girl he’s ever met, probably. Like, yeah,  she’s bad at talking about her feelings, sometimes- but that’s arguably not an intelligence thing, unless you count emotional intelligence. Chase thinks that emotional intelligence should count, but maybe that’s just a him thing- wait, what was he talking about again? Oh, right, that, while he respects her wishes and will follow her lead, he thinks that Gert’s unspoken plan to keep their relationship a secret from their friends is poorly thought-out and probably more than a little naive. Not that he would ever call her naive to her face, because she’d slap him- but she’s a little bit out to fucking lunch thinking that their friends are stupid enough not to catch on. There are only so many times two people can hold hands under the dinner table before someone gets suspicious. 

 

In the most roundabout way possible, he tries to bring this up to Molly one evening as they shop for groceries. She’s good at this advice stuff, right? “See, I have this...friend. And this friend of mine-who you’ve never met- he’s really into this girl, and she likes him, too. I mean, probably? Also, you haven’t met her either. Anyway, this girl, she, um, she wants to keep things on the downlow- and this friend of mine, he’s okay with that, he really is- but also he’s not. It’s complicated, I guess. Anyway, thoughts?”

 

Molly smirks at him as she tosses a box of purple hair dye into the cart. Gert must have asked her to get it- she probably wants to touch up her roots again. In a tone that suggests she already knows the answer, Molly asks, “Chase, what are these ‘friends’ of yours named?”

 

“Uhhh-”

 

“Let me guess: Bert and Jace? Grace and Trudy? You’re kind of terrible at this, you know that?”

 

His face goes bright red. “Um, I thought I was being pretty subtle, but I guess not, huh?”

 

She tilts her head at him, agreeing without even opening her mouth. For a fifteen year old, she’s mighty judgy. He crosses his arms, shifting uncomfortably before saying, “So, um- well, two things. One, you can’t tell anybody about what may or may not be/have been implied in this conversation. Two, what do I do?”

 

“Well…” Molly starts as she pushes the cart forward, Chase trotting to catch up, “it seems to me that this girl has her reasons for wanting to be private. Maybe those reasons seem silly, but if that’s what makes her comfortable, then that’s what you- this  _ friend  _ should stick to. He should let her lead the way, especially if these two people- who I have never met, as you said- have a complicated history that they’re both trying to heal from. Sound good?”

 

Chase nods, glad to have his feelings vindicated. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too. I mean, as much as I want to, like, shout from the rooftops how in love with her I am, she’s just not comfortable with that, yet, and that’s fine-”

 

“You’re in love with her?”

 

The words come out shocked and almost offended, like it’s the craziest thing she’s ever heard in her life. He frowns at her. “Duh? Are you kidding? She’s my favourite person on the planet, how could I not be in love with her?”

 

Molly’s expression changes to one of warm surprise. “That’s really sweet, Chase.”

 

He shrugs. “It’s just how I feel.”

 

Molly reaches over and flicks him on the arm. “That’s what makes it sweet.”

~~~~~

 

Okay, maybe Chase should have spent less time deliberating his relationship in a grocery store and more time actually shopping for groceries, because now, it’s dark, and L.A. at night is...weird, creepy, and all around just not fun. 

 

He and Molly walk close to each other, bags in hand as they make their way to the car. Why did he park so far away, again? Their money is clean, they’re not fugitives anymore, he should’ve just parked close to the door. But, no, he’s a stupid bitch idiot, and now the two of them are left to pass by shady alleyway after shady alleyway hoping that nobody will accost them.

 

Not that Chase couldn’t handle that, because he obviously could and would. But he’d much prefer it if he could go just one day out of the Hostel without getting injured, or injuring someone else. That’d be real nice, if you ask him.

 

Unfortunately, as he learns as they round the corner, not forty feet from the car, things just aren’t going to turn out that way. 

 

“Heyyy, baby,” slurs a man slumped against a wall with a group of guys with a similar lack of sobriety, “you, in the pink hat, c’meeere.”

 

Molly freezes, then keeps walking at a faster pace. Chase puts himself between her and the group of men immediately, putting his hand on her shoulder as they walk and telling himself that if they say anything else he’ll go over there and kill _all_ _of them._ Well, maybe not kill- but at least maim to some degree. 

 

“Aw, where you going, sweetie-”

 

“Fuck off,” Chase says sharply. “Leave her alone.”

 

The men start to laugh, a pack of grungy hyenas in a Los Angeles alleyway. Beside him, Molly shrinks into her hoodie, muttering, “Let’s just go.”

 

He nods, and they keep walking- but these aren’t the type of guys to let you leave when they don’t want you to. These are the type of guys to bully and threaten and mock you just because they can. As any former teenage jock does, Chase knows this type of guy very, very well. For a minute of there, he kind of was that guy- something he’ll be ashamed of until his dying day. But he’d never do  _ this.  _

 

_ This  _ being a catcalling piece of shit with a face like a monkey’s butt, yelling at a fifteen year old girl to, “Hey, come back, beautiful! We wanna see that pretty face of yours! Don’t ignore me,  _ brat-” _

 

Calmly, Chase pulls one of the Fistigons out of his bag, straps it on, and shoots, sending them flying one by one like bowling pins. Once they’re all down, moaning and groaning like the whiny babies that they are, Chase gives them a look of disdain almost up to par with Gert’s disapproving glare. “I told you to leave her alone.”

 

He pulls off the gauntlet and shoves it back in his bag, turning to Molly. “Well, that’s handled. Ready to go home?”

 

Molly crosses her arms, not looking at him as she mutters, “Sure.”

 

They start to make their way to the car, ambling down the dark sidewalk. Worried, because, hey, that was a really shitty thing that happened just then, Chase nudges her, asking, “You wanna talk about it?”

 

“About what?”

 

“Come on, now,” he replies, “that was...a not so good thing that just happened back there.”

 

“A ‘not so good thing’?” Molly huffs. “Chase, I just got catcalled in the middle of the night, that’s a little more than ‘a not so good thing’!”

 

She speeds up, but manages to keep the same pace as he counters with, “Molly, of course it was more than that. I was just- I was just trying to be subtle about it, y’know-”

 

Molly scoffs. “‘Subtle’? Oh, come on. You’re the most unsubtle person in the world- and don’t say it’s not true, Mr. ‘Oooh look at me with my Fistigons taking over when I shouldn’t’.”

 

Chase sighs. “Molls, that was a literal mob of adult men-”

 

“And I have  _ superpowers! _ I can take care of myself, Chase!” She stomps off ahead of him, then, leaving him to chase after her as he does his best to mentally compose an apology for something he’s not sorry for in the slightest.

 

He reaches the car not moments after she does, but this still leaves her time to jump in, slam the door, and lock the car, because of course she locks the fucking car.

 

Chase crouches down beside the window, knocking on it. Molly turns her head away from him pointedly, fiddling with the radio and turning the music all the way up. 

 

Some angry, screamy, punk rock song starts to blare so loud that the car starts to vibrate from the bass. _ You have got to be kidding me, _ Chase thinks, pinching the bridge of his nose. He idly wonders if this is what it’s like to raise teenagers, before remembering that he himself is a teenager, which brings up some complicated thoughts about forced maturity and how fucking old he’s been feeling lately- living underground doesn’t really leave much room for People magazine, and he’s been out of the loop for ages- but he doesn’t have time to think about that right now.

 

He taps on the window to get her attention, giving her his best  _ you better turn that off right now or there’ll be hell to pay  _ look. He’s not too proud to admit that this look is for the most part stolen off of Gert, seasoned master of the death glare. Recognizing the trademark Yorkes’ glower, Molly shuts off the radio, and, with a little more goading, cracks the window just enough for Chase to be able to speak. 

 

“Hi,” he starts, “wanna unlock the door?”

 

Molly shakes her head, curls flying. “Nope. I’m mad at you, so you can freeze to death. Enjoy hypothermia.”

 

“Molls, it’s L.A., hypothermia out here is about as likely as the sky falling down.” She harrumphs, crossing her arms, and Chase sighs, shifting to lean over the open window. “I’m sorry I made you believe that I think you can’t take care of yourself. Of course you can- you have  _ literal _ super strength.”

 

Her mouth twists up. “I sense a ‘but’.”

 

He nods slowly. “That’s because there is one. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,  _ but, _ that was a really dangerous situation. You were scared-”

 

“No I wasn’t! I’m- I’m brave, and strong, and nothing scares me, so-”

 

“What makes someone truly brave is admitting when they need help, Molly. I know that better than anyone. And as strong as you are, as much as you can protect yourself- you can lean on me, on all of us, to be there to protect you, too. That’s- that’s what family is, Molls. It’s letting other people handle things for you, even when you can do it yourself.” Cautiously, he holds out a fist for her to bump with her own. “I’ve got you, okay?”

 

Molly gives him a teary smile, bumping her fist against his, then unlocking the car door with a quiet click. “Okay.”

 

Chase shoots her a grin, then stands, rounding the car to get into the driver’s seat. He closes the door behind him and puts on his seatbelt- but he doesn’t start driving just yet. Instead, he turns to Molly, starting, “And another thing...I’m sorry for pushing you to talk about it. That was a terrifying thing that happened, and I should’ve been more- I should’ve been more understanding. I don’t know if that’s the right word, but you get what I mean, right?”

 

She bites her lip, then nods. “I do.”

 

Chase gives her a small smile, then asks, cautious, “So, are we good now?”

 

Molly pauses, then nods again, quicker this time. “Yeah. I’m sorry for freaking out on you.”

 

Chase shakes his head as he pulls out onto the road, saying, “Don’t be. You have nothing to apologize for.”

 

**__________**

 

Molly is tired. Today was terrible- this whole  _ week  _ has been terrible- and she’s just so, so tired. She wants to sleep forever, wants to escape the waking world, where sisters aren’t as perfect as you want them to be and creepy men yell at you on the street. This past week or so has just been one ongoing headache, and she’s so sick of it. 

 

Once she and Chase return home, she stalks off to her bedroom, ignoring him when he asks her to help him unpack. They were unintentionally loud when they got back, which means that Gert will be down any second. If you asked her, she would deny this, but since they’ve gotten on good terms again, Gert usually ends up wherever Chase is, like he’s some kind of jock homing beacon. 

 

Either way, Molly isn’t in the mood to deal with her patricidal sister right now. As soon as she brushes her teeth and changes into her most comfortable nightgown, baby pink and soft as hell, she flops down onto the bed and fades into that perfectly hazy half-sleep. 

 

She lies there for a while, lacking the energy to get under the covers. It’s not cold, or anything, so, really, falling asleep without a blanket wouldn’t be too terrible. Yeah, not too terrible at all...it would-

 

Her thought is interrupted by a knock on the door, quiet but sounding somewhat urgent. Molly groans, flopping over onto her back and squinting up at this unwelcome visitor. Oh. Gert. 

 

“Hey, you asleep?” She asks softly, and Molly can’t help but shoot her sister a glare. 

 

“I  _ was.  _ Thanks for that.”

 

Gert’s expression turns apologetic, but she steps into the room, anyways, approaching the bed cautiously before sitting down on its edge. “Chase told me about what happened tonight. How are you feeling?”

 

Molly sighs, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest in the same movement. She wraps her arms around her calves, resting her chin atop her knees, as compact as possible. “It was scary, but I’m fine.”

 

Gert raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

 

“Yep.”

 

She wishes she could talk to Gert about this. Gert  _ before, _ though, not this strange, ruthless person before her. This girl is foreign, unknown, and Molly just wants her sister back. 

 

Gert reaches out, probably to comfort her, but Molly flinches away. She doesn’t want anything Gert offers, not even a hand to hold or a shoulder to lean on. 

 

Gert’s expression turns conflicted, brows creased and mouth pursed, like she’s considering something. Finally, in a low tone, she asks, “Molly, what did I  _ do?” _

 

She swallows, hard. She’s not ready to do this, not yet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Her sister scoffs, shaking her head. “Sure you don’t. All this past week or longer, you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. What did I do, shoot your dog, or something? Why can’t you just  _ talk  _ to me? Whatever it is, whatever you’re upset at me over, it would be so much better if you just  _ tell me-“ _

 

“I know how you got away.”  _ Oops. _ Definitely didn’t mean to say that just then, but from the shocked look on Gert’s face, stopping now is not in the cards. She swallows, then continues, “To get away from Dad, I mean. Tandy told me. She thought I knew already- though I can’t imagine why…”

 

“Molly, I-“

 

“How could you keep this from me? How could you tell  _ her,  _ who you  _ barely  _ know, and not  _ me _ ? Moreover, how could you  _ do it _ in the first place?” The questions spill out of her mouth, rapid fire, and the look on Gert’s face becomes more and more devastated with each word.

 

“I- I didn’t know how to tell you. And how would I, anyway? How do you tell your own sister something like that?  _ Hey, Molls, I just wiped the mind of the guy who raised you, he doesn’t remember any of us anymore-“  _ she cuts herself off to sob, like she couldn’t help it. Molly watches her cry for a few moments, frozen by uncertainty of what to do- but before she can make a decision, Gert is wiping at her eyes, regaining a semblance of calm. She swallows, continuing, “And- and I didn’t tell Tandy. I told Ty, who ended up telling Tandy. He asked- he asked what happened, and I felt like I owed him an explanation…”

 

_ Ouch.  _ “You owed  _ him  _ an explanation, but not  _ me?  _ You don’t think I deserved to hear the full story?”

 

Gert looks down at her lap, ashamed. “I told you what I could manage. It was- it was really hard, Molly. You can’t imagine it. I- I  _ terrified _ myself that day. I still can’t get over it; how I managed to be so cruel, so ruthless. Chase- Chase keeps telling me to forgive myself, and that I had to do it, but-“

 

_ Wait one fucking second.  _ “Chase knew? Before  _ me?” _

 

Gert holds up a hand, placating. “Chase  _ guessed.  _ I didn’t tell him, he  _ guessed.” _

 

Molly gives her sister an incredulous look. “Your boyfriend, owner of negative-two brain cells, guessed that you stabbed Dale through with a syringe full of memory eraser? Yeah, that’s believable.”

 

At  _ stabbed Dale,  _ Gert winces, crossing her arms uncomfortably. “He’s- he’s intuitive. A-anyways, I would- I would really appreciate it if you didn’t describe it that way.”

 

“What, ‘stabbed Dale’? That’s what happened, isn’t it? That’s what you  _ did?” _

 

Gert sighs, her eyes falling closed. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

 

Molly makes an offended noise. “What, am I too  _ young  _ to get it? Am I too  _ little  _ to understand why you would do that?”

 

She sighs again, heavier and through the nostrils.  _ “No,  _ Molly. It’s not because you’re a kid, okay? I just- I had my reasons.”

 

Molly tilts her head at her. “Care to share?”

 

Gert’s mouth purses. Sharply, she replies, “Fine. You wanna hear it? Sure. I didn’t tell you because I  _ knew  _ that this would happen. I knew that you’d get upset, and you wouldn’t trust me anymore, and I- I didn’t want you to hate me. I didn’t want you to look at me and see someone else, see someone to be scared of. And I’m- I’m not, Molly. I’m still the girl you know. I’m still here to give you hugs and tell you stories and love you so, so much. That’s the one thing about me that will never change, okay?”

 

She reaches out again, careful, and this time, Molly meets her halfway, twining their hands together. She looks down at their interlocking fingers, then whispers, “O-okay.”

 

**__________**

 

Gert feels overwhelmed. She’s just left Molly’s room, and after that talk...well, let’s just say emotions are running a little high over here in this head of hers. 

 

She never wanted Molly to know. She’s going to  _ murder  _ Tandy the next time she sees her. They’d talked briefly of a Friendsgiving reunion, so you best believe Gert isn’t going to have any problem vaulting over the dining table and stabbing Tandy with the turkey fork.

 

God, she feels so pent-up. She needs some kind of release, some kind of- wait...wait. She has a sorta-boyfriend, now, right? A sorta-boyfriend who would 100% jump at the chance to make out and give her said much needed release?

 

Jittering the whole way, Gert stalks down to the garage, wondering how in the fuck she’s going to propose this. She can’t just say,  _ hey, wanna makeout,  _ can she?

 

But then she reaches the garage, and all her worry goes out the window, replaced by intense, unadulterated  _ wanting.  _ His hair is a little mussed, a stray curl resting against his forehead in a way that would make a lesser girl melt. He’s wearing that damn jumpsuit again, and Gert has never been more attracted to someone in her entire  _ life.  _

 

He looks up, shooting her his most dashing smile. “Hey-“

 

“Wanna makeout?”  _ Oops.  _ Jumped the gun on that one.

 

Chase blinks in surprise, then nods, and Gert nods back, mumbling something that may or may not be the word _ cool  _ over and over as she rushes up to him, grabbing him by the collar and mashing their mouths together. It’s a frantic, needy thing, and her entire body feels lit on fire as Chase kisses back, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. She starts to walk him backwards, stopping only once they’ve reached the Rolls so she can push him up against it, propping her knee against the door of the car to get closer, closer,  _ closer.  _

 

He makes a surprised noise, low and rumbly and oh-so-sexy. Oh, wow, did she actually just describe a boy as sexy? Her brain must really be wonked. Of course, how could it not be, with Chase’s tongue in her mouth and his hand on her ass; how could it not be when...

 

Oh. Gert just remembered how she ended up here in the first place. She didn’t want to- she wants nothing but to forget anything before this moment, to forget everything but the way Chase is kissing her right now, passionate and intense and perfect. One of his hands has moved to cup her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb, and  _ fuck, _ this is just what she needed. Kissing Chase makes the whole world fall away, makes her forget all the terrible things she’s done, makes her forget just how pissed Molly is at her. She still isn’t sure how to fully regain her sister’s trust, or even if she  _ will.  _ What if Molly never trusts her again? What if she hates her for what she’s done? Gert would deserve it, too- call it karma. Call it-

 

Chase pulls away with a wet  _ pop,  _ expression worried as he asks hoarsely, “Why are you crying? What happened?”

 

Gert frowns, reaching up to wipe at her face. Sure enough, her hand comes back wet. She hadn’t even been aware of the tears streaming down her face- how sad is that? “Don’t worry about it.”

 

His brows crease, concerned. Grabbing a conveniently placed (and conveniently clean) rag and starting to gently wipe at her wet face, he asks softly, “Of course I’m going to worry about it. I love you, Gertie, remember?”

 

Gert swallows, a little emotional. Well, more than a little. A lot. She looks away from him, sniffling. “Y-yeah, I know. I just, um, I just…”

 

He strokes her hair tenderly, leaning down to peck her on the forehead. “Take your time. I’ve got you.”

 

She gives him a watery smile. “You’re so good to me.”

 

Chase shrugs a little, like it’s no big deal, even though it is. “I just love you a lot.”

 

She sniffles again, shuffling closer to lean into him and wrap her arms around his waist. As she snuggles into him, Chase circles his arms around her, holding her close. She breathes him in for a while, letting that instantly recognizable scent of his- spruce and vanilla and  _ boy-  _ calm her down.

 

Eventually, in a quiet whisper, she starts, “So, Molly found out how I got away from Dad.”

 

Chase clicks his tongue, a sympathetic sound. “Oh, no.”

 

“Oh,  _ yes.  _ We’ve got Tandy Bowen’s big mouth to thank for that one. Anyway, that’s why- that’s why Molly’s been pissed this last little while. We, um, we talked, but it wasn’t- she’s not gonna immediately forgive me, or anything. I don’t think she’s ever going to trust me again.”

 

“Hey, no,” Chase chastises, gentle as always, “of course she’ll trust you again. Just give her some time. Speaking from experience, slow and steady will definitely win you that race.”

 

Gert laughs wetly, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder. Chase hums, rubbing his hand up and down her back, and she decides to do it again, on the collarbone this time. Then the neck, then the jaw- all long, slow presses of her mouth against his skin. Finally, she kisses the corner of his mouth, and Chase makes a quiet sound of frustration, grabbing her face to kiss her properly. She laughs into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck, and suddenly, she feels like everything is going to turn out okay.

 

So long as Chase is around, it’s pretty much guaranteed.

 

**__________**

 

If Alex was keen on lying about his emotions, he would probably tell you that he has been feeling absolutely fine these past few days. He would say that being possessed by an evil, people-eating, over-dramatic alien had absolutely no toll on him, and that he feels wonderful.

 

But Alex has never been one to tell himself anything other than the truth. And the truth is this: he feels like a steaming pile of shit doused in acid and lit on fire, mentally and physically. That little visitor of his certainly left a mark, and though he’s gone, now, Alex is still feeling it all the way down to his bones. He feels like his brain got split down the middle with a dull butterknife, slow and painful and terrible. He knows that he is no longer Jekyll-and-Hyde-ing it up in this bitch he calls a mind, but from the way his decision making skills and general know-how have gone kaput, he might as well be. Of course, the Hyde in this situation is no longer an extra-terrestrial, and is instead a manifestation of his depression and PTSD, but whatever. Same difference, right? 

 

He’s been trying to clean his room for the past two days, but he hasn’t really gotten anywhere with it. All that ends up happening is him digging through all his stuff and berating himself for being a hoarder, and maybe cleaning up, like, two square feet. It’s like that one scene in To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before- which, yes, he has watched at  _ least  _ eight times- where Margot forces Lara Jean to donate things to Goodwill, and she spends an entire day doing the exact opposite. He appreciates Lara Jean- she’s very representative of the part of him that’s a lazy, romantic dummy obsessed with eighties to nineties romcoms. He gets made fun of for this, sometimes, which is fair, honestly- he’s seen Footloose 56 times and counting, and at that point, he can admit that he deserves the mockery. But he doesn’t really care- romcoms make him happy, and that’s all that matters. So long as he can watch a thousand and one movies where there’s a happy ending, he can endure getting ragged on.

 

Alex rummages around the second drawer of his nightstand, tossing receipts and old wrappers and what-have-you as he goes along. He’s nearly cleared out everything garbage adjacent when his hand brushes against something cold and metallic, pushed to the very back of the drawer. 

 

He wraps his fingers around it and pulls it out, curious. Alex isn’t sure what he was expecting, but the very last thing on his list is the expensive-looking smartphone in his hand. He doesn’t recognize it, and for a moment, he wonders if Livvie left it behind- but this phone totally isn’t Livvie’s style. She’d rather die than have some boring black case with some weird, triangle-y symbol on it. Wait, isn’t that the Church of Gibborim’s symbol? Maybe it belongs to Karolina?

 

He presses the home button, and the entire screen immediately starts to flash bright red. Not just any red, either- fire-engine, maraschino cherry, blood of a thousand angry men  _ red. _

 

_ Uh-oh, _ he thinks idly,  _ that’s not good. _

 

**__________**

 

_ All I want are hooks to hang your flowers from, _

_ and paper to write letters on. _

_ Cause you're all I'll ever...have,  _

_ it's all I'll ever have,  _

_ it's all I'll ever have,  _

_ it's all I'll ever have (it's all I'll ever)... _

 

“I like this song,” Karolina murmurs, “It’s pretty.”

 

Nico, who’s busy retaping Karolina’s bandages for her like the cutest, most goth nurse in the world, hums in agreement. “Yeah, it’s nice. Does that hurt?”

 

“No,” Karolina replies, even though it does. The pain isn’t so bad as it once was- it’s still there, sure, but it’s different, now. More of a dull ache than anything. 

 

She’s still having a hard time wrapping her head around the events that led to these injuries, still having a hard time thinking of it as something tangible and not just a terrifying nightmare. She  _ wishes _ it was just a nightmare. That would make things so much easier.

 

When she was little, strange dreams were about as common as the flaxseed pancakes she’d have when she woke up each morning. Karolina didn’t understand them, then- didn’t understand why her subconscious self thought of herself as so trapped, why the walls were always closing in. She gets it, now. 

 

_ I get the notion that I'm almost there, _

_ I get the notion that we're getting closer. _

_ And with one motion it could all go wrong, _

_ if I'm emotional I'll ruin it all. _

_ And the roof will cave in and fall to the ground, _

_ and I'll keep on trying though I could never let you down, no I- _

_ It's all I'll ever... _

 

“Hey, Karrie?” Nico says, snapping her out of her haze. “Where’d you go?”

 

Karolina shakes her head a little. “Nowhere. Don’t worry about it.”

 

Her brows crease. “Of course I’m going to worry about it. I’m your girlfriend, it’s kind of my job to be worried.”

 

She says it in a jokey kind of tone, but Karolina frowns, anyway. She crosses her arms, looking away from her. “Sorry for being so hard for you to deal with, then.”

 

“Hey, hey,” Nico responds, sounding almost offended, “that is  _ not  _ what I meant, and you know it.”

 

She bites her lip, still not turning towards her. “What did you mean, then?”

 

“I meant,” Nico starts, reaching out cautiously to put her fingertips to Karolina’s jaw and turn her face towards her, “that I love you, and  _ because _ I love you, I’m always going to care about your health and happiness. I’ve got you, Karrie.”

 

Karolina gives her girlfriend a watery smile. “I’ve- I’ve got you too, Nico. I’m- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- it’s just, these past couple days…”

 

“I know, babe, I know.” Nico reaches forward, wrapping her in a tight hug. Karolina clings to her for support, feeling like the world will end if she lets go. Nico rubs her hand up and down her back, murmuring reassurances. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you…”

 

Karolina swallows, then says, voice muffled from Nico’s shirt, “I was really scared. I- I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

 

Nico barks a laugh, a singular, melancholic thing. “Boy, do I know how that feels.”

 

Karolina snuggles closer, thinking of all that time she was gone. She wonders how Nico fared- not well, probably. She looks up at her girlfriend, studying her face. “Hey, promise me something.”

 

Nico gives her a half-moon kind of smile. “Anything, love.”

 

Her cheeks burn at the pet name, but she soldiers on, holding up a pinkie. “No more losing each other, okay? F-for real, this time.”

 

Nico hooks their pinkies together, then asks, “Weren’t you the one who said there wasn’t gonna  _ be _ anymore losing each other, not while we were, y’know, um…”

 

“In love?” Nico nods, a deep blush visible even under her makeup. “I did, yeah, but- but that didn’t seem to stick very well, did it? So we’ll call this extra-strength. Precautionary measures.”

 

Nico laughs a little, letting go of her pinkie to stroke her cheek. “I’ve always loved a girl who’s prepared.”

 

Karolina does a mock salute, giggling as she says, “Girl Scout’s code. It’s unbreakable, didn’t you know?”

 

Nico rolls her eyes lovingly. “There’s no way you were a Girl Scout. I would’ve remembered that.”

 

Karolina gasps, offended. “I totally was!”  _ For like, a month.  _ “I have badges! A uniform! A-“

 

There’s a knock at the door, and they both turn. Alex is standing in the open doorway, sweating bullets and holding up what looks like a smartphone, the screen flashing bright red. He gives them an anxious grimace. “Hey, guys? I think you might wanna come see this.”

 

**__________**

 

Can Nico have  _ one day?  _ Just  _ one day  _ where nothing goes to shit. That’d be very nice, please and thank you. But, no. of course not. The world just hates the idea of her catching a break, so, now, it’s throwing this shit at her. 

 

_ This shit _ being the screen of every single technological device in the Hostel all of a sudden flashing bright red like it’s a fucking firetruck-themed rave. She can’t believe this is happening right now- she can’t believe she’s here, congregated on the staircase with the rest of her friends, arguing over what the fuck is going on.

 

“Okay, did somebody-” Chase starts, before seeming to realize Molly is in the room. He reaches over to her, clapping his hands over her ears before stage-whispering, “Did somebody watch porn and give all the tech one big virus? Wilder, it started with  _ your  _ phone-”

 

“I  _ told  _ you,” Alex interrupts as Molly shakes Chase off, giving him an angry look, “this isn’t even my phone. It was shoved in the back of the drawer, and I swear I’ve never seen it before now. I actually thought it was Karolina’s, at first.”   
  


Beside her, Karolina frowns. “Why would you think that?”

 

Alex holds up the phone, turning the still blinking red screen away from them so they can see the back. And there it is, printed on the case, as clear as day- the Gibborim symbol, bright white and pristine. 

 

They all fall silent, their faces lit up by the eerie, flashing glow. The longer this goes on, the more tense Nico feels. 

 

In a quiet, terrified voice, Gert speaks up. “What if it’s...what if it’s a tracker?”

 

Xavin, who only moments ago looked like they desperately wanted to ask what ‘porn’ was, but now seems just as anxious as the rest of them, asks, “A tracker? Placed by whom?”

 

Just then, there’s a loud  _ boom _ from up above them, so loud that the ceiling shakes. They all look up in fear as it happens again, holding onto each other for dear life. The crazy thing is, this doesn’t seem to be another earthquake- no, it’s almost...directed, as if something is pounding on the roof with all its might. 

 

“I think-” Gert starts, but she’s interrupted as... _ something _ comes crashing through the ceiling, bright red and shouting for joy as it zooms around in the air. It’s weird, but as all seven of them immediately scatter across the room in fear, Nico thinks she might recognize the voice.

 

Another  _ something  _ follows the red shape, purple this time and much more stern in its shouting. It seems to be berating the red one. A third figure follows, glowing a bright, cold white, and suddenly everything clicks, and she realizes why she recognizes their voices. In the same moment, she feels a twinge of anger at Alex for never telling her that her mother was possessed by a Gibb- but maybe he’d assumed she would have guessed that already. Looking back on it, it’s pretty fucking obvious.

 

“Hey, Xav!” Gert whisper-shouts somewhere to the left of her, and Nico just knows she’s gesturing emphatically along with it, as Gert is wont to do in high stress-level situations. “Does  _ that  _ answer your question?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	16. Bring You Home To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uh-oh.

Alex is starting to realize that he’s kind of useless when it comes to fighting. His arms are twigs, he’s not that fast of a runner, and when it comes to special abilities...well, let’s just say he’s more than a little lacking in that department. 

 

Though he knows that this is the opposite of important right now, and making this super-dangerous fight with literal aliens about his self-esteem is more than a little vain, but he can’t help but be aware of how representative their current situation is of his role in the group. Sure, he can plan and scheme all he wants, but what’s the use in that when there’s super-powered glowing aliens zooming through the air, shooting down at them with all their might?

 

Fortunately, though, they have their own super-powered, glowing alien, and she’s quite the force to be reckoned with, especially with Molly’s particular brand of brute force back-up. Karolina is a marvel, and with Molly floating in the air beside her throwing whatever heavy objects she can get her hands on and encased in one of Karolina’s, as Chase might say, ‘glitter elevators’, they make quite the pair. Speaking of Chase, himself and Nico have also opted for a team-up; they have excellent combat chemistry, if he does say so himself.

 

He doesn’t see Xavin or Gert at the moment- or Old Lace, for that matter- but he’s sure they’re off somewhere being useful, unlike Alex.  _ He’s  _ throwing rocks at their enemies, and half of them have ended up being thrown too wide to even bounce off. He’s gotten a few good hits in, but to be honest? He’s not doing much. 

 

Though it’s an absolutely crazy, insane thought, Alex almost finds himself missing the Gibb. Sure, he was murderous, and cruel, and kind of a dictator- but at least he was  _ useful.  _ He knew what to do in situations like this. 

 

Alex sighs as he picks up another rock and flings it, asking himself,  _ if I was a conniving, ruthless alien who’d do anything to achieve my goal, how would I go about this? _

 

Just then, Karolina and Not-Tina’s light blasts clash against each other, and the whole room shudders with the force of it. Suddenly, Alex gets an idea. If he can get up to roof, maybe knock a few chunks off the ceiling…

 

But that would require the power of flight, which, sadly, he doesn’t have anymore. Looks like he’ll have to break tradition and actually ask someone for help this time, if he wants this to work- but who?

 

Wait, Gert and Xavin. Where  _ are  _ they? He scans the room-turned-battlefield, eventually spotting Gert on the staircase, seeming to be in quite the showdown with Not-Stacey. She’s got a steel baseball bat in her hands, and the look on her face...well, let’s just say she’s busy. Xavin, though, is racing around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to keep Old Lace under control. The deinonychus must be ravenous from the way she’s trying to catch one of the Gibbs between her jaws, and it’s clear she’d have no qualms swallowing all three of them whole. Xavin- or any of them, really- is quite against this, mostly because the idea of murdering- or letting someone get murdered- on purpose isn’t really something they’re a fan of. Not counting Nico, of course, though she’d probably have  _ him  _ murdered if she heard him say that. 

 

Alex sprints as well as an out of shape nerd  _ can  _ sprint, reaching Xavin and grabbing them by the sleeve to stop them from running after Old Lace. Through laboured breath, he says, “Need,”  _ pant pant,  _ “your help,”  _ pant pant,  _ “with something!”

 

Xavin frowns at him. “With what? Listen, I don’t have time for-“

 

“Old Lace,” he shouts, impressing even himself with the authoritative tone of his voice, “come here,  _ now.” _

 

Old Lace trots over, head hung low as if in shame. He crouches a little, getting right in her scaly face to say, “Go be useful. We’re not going to win if you treat the enemies like treats and don’t listen to anyone.”

 

He feels slightly silly, sure that all she can hear when he speaks is the teacher from Charlie Brown, or something. But Old Lace seems to understand, giving him what might be a nod before racing over to where Nico and Chase are. It seems they’ve hit a rough patch in the fight against their respective possessed parents, so Old Lace will be welcome aid.

 

Xavin turns to him with wide eyes. “How did you  _ do  _ that?”

 

Alex shrugs. “Force of will, or something. Now, come on- I have a job for you.”

 

**__________**

 

From this day forth, Xavin isn’t listening to anything Alex tells them to do  _ ever  _ again. 

 

They can’t believe this is what he’s cooked up. Sure, it’ll work- they’re sure of that- but that doesn’t mean they don’t hate every second of this. 

 

_ This  _ being the fact that they’ve been coaxed into morphing into a creature that leans much more towards monster than human. Alex has informed them that actually, Spider-Man is quite formidable, and to transform into- well, not  _ him,  _ secret identities exist for a reason- someone with similar powers is a blessing. Xavin wishes that this ‘blessing’ didn’t make their hands and feet feel as though they’re covered in ultra-sticky jam, and that it didn’t mean they had to crawl about the ceiling like a demented tarantula.

 

Alex is whisper-shouting encouragements and directions from the highest step he could manage to reach, a one man cheerleading team. Upon his say-so, Xavin takes the (quite heavy) hammer they’d jammed between their teeth out of their mouth, and takes one big swing at the ceiling. It seems that the enhanced strength evident from the video Alex had shown them of the Spider-Boy swinging around New York is working just as planned. 

 

The chunk of ceiling falls, as expected, directly onto Jonah’s glowing shoulder. He startles, forced downwards about ten feet, and Xavin can’t help but let out a high pitched cackle. He whips around at the noise, but Xavin just laughs again, holding up their middle finger mockingly. This, it is to be noted, was not part of the plan. They just felt like pissing him off. 

 

Jonah cries out in anger, zooming in their direction, but Xavin is too fast. They’ve gotten a hang of this crawling thing, now- it’s kind of fun, if they’re honest. Or maybe that’s just the whole pissing-off-Jonah aspect of it.

 

Either way, he’s now chasing them across the room, Xavin chipping off parts of the ceiling and flinging them in his direction whenever they can. He’s getting angrier, now, more brash- and while you’d think that’d be a bad thing, it really isn’t. You see, angry means he’ll act on impulse, become hyper focused on Xavin and  _ only  _ Xavin- and this isn’t just some educated guess. Xavin has known Jonah longer than he’s even gone by that name, they’ve known him since what feels like the beginning of time. Even with what Chase had said, about his father and Jonah melding minds, or whatever it was, he’s still the same as he always was. He’s still someone they know inside out, someone whose entire personality they have memorized, catalogued in the database they call a brain.

 

Xavin  _ knows  _ Jonah. And that...that makes him  _ predictable. _

 

**__________**

 

Gert doesn’t think she can keep this up much longer. She was doing well, at first- she even had the upper hand for a minute there. But there’s no denying that the Gibb possessing her mom (who she’s mentally labelled Other Mother, just so she doesn’t get confused) is just...so much stronger. It’s near impossible to beat a glowing, flying alien shooting light blasts at you when all you’ve got is a metal baseball bat. Especially when your pet dinosaur chooses  _ now  _ to go crazy AND stupid, dead set on munching on neon aliens. Or, at least, she  _ was.  _ Gert doesn’t know where Old Lace is now, just that she’s not  _ here,  _ and Gert is rapidly losing this fight.

 

But she’s got to try, anyways. Even when Other Mother knocks her to the ground, so hard she feels it in her bones, Gert gets back up, because she always has to get back up. If she doesn’t, they win- and that  _ cannot  _ happen. 

 

Breathing hard, Gert flings the now crumpled and melted baseball bat to the side. This needs to end, and  _ quickly.  _ Her enemy is distracted right now, turned away from her. She obviously assumes that she’s won- she hasn’t even looked back to see if Gert got back up. Big mistake.

 

Hoping desperately that this last ditch attempt will work, Gert sprints at breakneck speed towards Other Mother, slamming into her with such force that it sends her flying- and  _ not  _ the glowing, on purpose kind. She hits the opposite wall with a loud  _ thud, _ then crumples to the ground in a heap. Gert approaches her cautiously, seeing if she’s really out cold- fortunately for Gert, she is. She can’t help but smile a little, relishing in the feeling of  _ winning,  _ for once. It helps that Other Mother is only unconscious- she’s clearly still breathing. 

 

Gert is just about to decide what to do next when there’s a loud scream- one that could  _ only _ have been from Molly. Oh, no. Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no.

 

She whips around, scanning the room to see what’s just happened. The first thing Gert spots is her sister, hanging from the loft railing by one hand. From what Gert can gather, she got blasted in that direction, and the force of her body hitting the railing has caused it to start to crumble.  _ Shit. _

 

She sprints over to her sister, glad she’s not too far away. She’s close enough that she can hear Molly panicking, the kind of frantic mumbling Gert would usually associate with a panic attack, which she has no doubt her sister is experiencing right now.

 

Gert reaches the railing and leans over it, stretching out her hand to her sister. “Molly, grab on!”

 

Molly’s eyes widen, and, for once, she does as she’s told, latching onto her arm with a death grip. Gert starts to pull her up, using both hands and keeping her feet planted on the ground. 

 

Molly is halfway over the railing,  _ almost  _ there, when the worst thing possible happens. The railing breaks apart, sudden and without lenience, and Molly, caught by surprise, scrabbles for purchase, for safety- and doesn’t reach it. Instead, she ends up pulling Gert down with her, and they both tumble to the ground, Molly landing directly on top of her.  _ Ouch.  _

 

“Sorry!” Molly squeaks, rushing to get off of her. “Are you okay?”

 

Gert squints up at her sister, but her face is hazy, splintered. She thinks her glasses may be broken. She also thinks she may have a concussion. Everything hurts, like she got ran over with an eighteen wheeler, and all of a sudden she’s so, so tired.

 

With a shaky hand, Gert reaches up, stroking her sister’s soft cheek. Voice so croaky she may as well be a toad, she tells her, “I’m sorry. For e-everything.”

 

She’s aware that this is perhaps a bit over dramatic- logically, she knows she’s not  _ literally  _ dying. But all she can focus on is the pain, and how her skull feels like a cracked open coconut.

 

Molly grabs her hand, keeping it against her cheek. She may be crying, but Gert can’t tell. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Yep, definitely crying. “You saved me.”

 

Though it takes effort, Gert gives her sister a grin. “I-I did, didn’t I? Told you I’d protect you.”

 

Molly nods, turning her face to press a kiss to Gert’s palm. “Thank you.”

 

Gert nods back, though it makes her head pound even more than it did originally. “No prob, Bob.” She giggles, continuing, “No biggie, Iggy. You’re welcome, Malcolm-“

 

“Okayyy,” Molly interrupts, “you’re delirious, that’s cool, that’s awesome, just  _ great.” _

 

Gert is still giggling, so she’s only half paying attention to what Molly is saying, and seeing as she can only half  _ hear  _ her in the first place, it’s kind of just garbled. Oh, garbled is such a funny word. Through her laughter, she tells Molly this, wheezing out, “Garble, garble, garble, isn’t that a funny word? Sounds like a turkey!”

 

“Uh-huhhhh,” Molly replies, distracted. “Do you see O.L.?”

 

Gert clumsily points to her fractured glasses. “Can’t see amy-anyfi- _ anything.” _

 

“Riiight,” Molly replies, sticking two fingers in her mouth and letting out an  _ EXTREMELY LOUD  _ wolf whistle.

 

Gert whinces, clumsily batting at her sister to stop the noise. When Molly frowns down at her, concerned, Gert croaks out, “Headache. You are beary-  _ very  _ loud. Shtoppp.”

 

Molly nods an apology, opening her mouth to reply- but before she can, Old Lace comes barreling in their direction, a big green slimy blob to Gert’s fuzzy vision. Like a mother cat picking up her kit, Old Lace carefully grabs the back of Gert’s sweater with her teeth, lifting her into the air.

 

It’s only as she’s being carried out, looking around the room as Old Lace does her best to get them out swiftly and carefully, that she notices something missing. The place where Other Mother had collapsed is now empty, completely barren- and she’s not in the sky, either. In fact, she’s not anywhere in this room.

 

She’s just... _ gone. _

 

**__________**

 

Chase can’t help but feel overwhelmed right now. Can you blame him? He’d been having a whole bushel of good days, and now, all of a sudden, he’s once again accosted by evil, possessed parents, there’s a battle, and his girlfriend (?) is getting carried out of the fight like the kit to Old Lace’s mother cat. This last one is new, and extremely scary, actually- he’d very much so like to chase after them, make sure she’s okay, protect her from everything that would dare hurt her. It takes everything in him not to do so, if he’s honest. 

 

But Nico needs him. They’re so, so close to overpowering Gibb-Tina, and she needs him. So even if all he wants to do right now is book it out of the room and make sure the girl he loves is safe, he knows that staying does more for that goal, in the long run. Can’t give Gert a hug if the scary aliens blow the lot of them up.

 

He and Nico are gonna prevent that, though. Xavin, too, even though they’re up in the rafters like some kind of deranged fruit bat. It’s keeping Jonah/Victor/Whomever The Fuck He Is busy, though, so he can’t discount their methods. 

 

He’s not sure where Stacey went, but he’s glad she’s gone. He suspects Gert did something that involved a lot of Lara Croft level hot fighting skills, but he could be wrong. Either way, good for them. One down, two to go. And hopefully, Xavin will best their opponent- or he and Nico will beat theirs, he’s not picky- and then it’ll just be  _ one  _ to go.

 

Chase should know better than to hope for things.

 

Just when he’s thinking things might start to go his way, Xavin drops from the sky, crashing to the ground with a loud  _ thump. _ He hears Alex somewhere in the distance, crying out in what he assumes is sympathy-pain. 

 

Suddenly, everything becomes too much, too fast. First, there’s the maniacal, supervillain laughter echoing throughout the Hostel, then there’s his father, glowing the same fluorescent white of the lighting in a classroom as you sit, waiting to take a test you didn’t study for. It’s that same feeling, too- tense, with an unshakeable knowledge that everything has taken a turn for the worse, and that there’s a 0% chance of succeeding. 

 

Is that too dramatic? Maybe! Or maybe Chase is just bad in testing situations, and also showdowns with his maniacal abusive father- who’s to say?

 

Anyway,  _ Evil Dad, 2: Electric Boogaloo _ is now zooming towards himself and Nico, and Chase’s panic levels are rising past  _ manageable  _ and into  _ breakdown imminent.  _ He can’t let that happen right now, though. His friends need him, Nico needs him, his role in this matters. He matters. 

 

And, besides- Chase is done being afraid of his father.

 

So when dear old dad lands right in front of him, clearly keen on some over-dramatic, manipulative speech, Chase does the sensible thing- blasts him in the chest with the Fistigons, then turns right back to Nico. In a tired voice, he says, “I know that won’t last, but it sure felt good.”

 

Nico huffs a laugh. “Sometimes, that’s all we can hope for.”

 

It only takes a minute or two for his father to get back on his feet, but that’s more than Chase was expecting, if he’s honest. Either way, it gives himself and Nico the time to blast Gibb-Tina into a wall across the room. It also gives Nico the time to have some sort of emotional hurricane rip through her at the sound of her mother’s scream. Even though he can sense his father’s approach, Chase lets her run off in that direction, even though he can literally feel how bad of an idea it is. He knows better than anyone that, sometimes, the instinct to run to your parents when they’re hurt wins out. 

 

Unfortunately, it does leave in quite the sticky situation, though. Nothing he can’t handle, though. It’s not like the man in front of him murdered his mother, or anything. Or, say, abused him for years on end with no remorse. Yeah, no, definitely not this dude, nope. 

 

_ Come on, Chase,  _ he tells himself,  _ you can do this. You can do this. You can do this. Just keep repeating that until you’re out. _

 

It sounds like something Gert would say- poetic, sort of survivalist- and somehow, that makes him feel much better. Even just the thought of her fills him with motivation, with hope.

 

He clings to that feeling as his father starts to speak, addressing him in a garbled, dark tone, like his voice is being transmitted over a static-y radio. “Hello, son.”

 

Chase swallows, clenching his fists. “I don’t think you have the right to call me that anymore.”

 

His enemy raises an eyebrow. “Getting bold, are we?”

 

“You have no idea.”

 

They both ready their weapons, prepared to duke it out until one of them can’t get up- but before that can happen, the ground beneath their feet starts to tremor. At first, he thinks it’s a side-effect of the raging battle, but, no. This is much, much, worse. 

 

Chase knows what an earthquake feels like. He knows all the warning signs, all the indications, everything to watch out for. Yet, somehow, it’s only just now, right in the middle of it, that he realizes what’s happening.

 

It’s only right now that he’s realizing how hard the ground is shaking. 

 

**__________**

 

Usually, Molly is okay with a good shot of adrenaline. Nothing like high stakes to get the blood pumping, right?

 

Wrong.  _ Wrong,  _ because the current high stakes happen to be their home crumbling to dust under her feet, with her family still inside of it.  _ Wrong,  _ because everything about this is wrong. Today should’ve just been normal, it shouldn’t have culminated into her dashing across the room, trying her hardest to get all of her friends out before the room collapses.

 

She reaches Xavin first, picking up her crumpled friend and tossing them over her shoulder, not sure how to feel about the pained groans that come out of their mouth at the jostling. She doesn’t like that they’re in pain- but, hey, at least they’re alive, right?

 

Molly seeks out Alex next, because, let’s be honest, after Xavin- who has a real, debilitating injury- he’s most likely to be in deep shit right now. Not that she doesn’t think her friend is capable, or anything, but...let’s face it. Alex is no stranger to getting himself into dangerous situations. Getting kidnapped, getting kidnapped: part two, getting possessed...damn. The world really hates Alex, huh? Poor guy. 

 

As expected, she finds her unlucky friend caught in the middle of a miniature landslide, taken away with the earthen tide as it rushes down the staircase. She can hear him moaning and groaning and yelling all the way down, which would be funny if he wasn’t extremely liable to sustain, like, every injury in the book.

 

Molly climbs onto the railing, plucking Alex from the avalanche with minimal effort. She hoists him over her other shoulder, then hops down, as if this is no strain on her at all- because, well, it isn’t. Super-strength definitely has its perks.

 

“Thanks,” Alex chokes out, “that was close.”

 

“I agree- and you’re welcome.” Molly stops for a second, catching her breath and surveying her surroundings. She can’t spot Karolina and Nico, though she assumes Karolina has already lifted her girlfriend away from the danger. Chase, on the other hand, is waiting by a hole in the wall, waving towards them frantically, which is both sweet and incredibly stupid. He should just go on ahead, Molly can handle this on her-

 

“Um, Molly, not to rush you, or anything, but can we, like, go before the building collapses?”

 

Oh, right. 

 

She dashes across the room, careful not to jostle Xavin and Alex too much as she makes her way over to Chase. Of course, she also has to dodge falling ceiling tiles, crumbling arches, and all the other rapidly deteriorating aspects of what was once their home, so it takes a little longer than she would like. As she reaches Chase, and they all rush out together, she tries not to think about what this means. She tries not to think about how her home has been ripped away from her once again, how for what feels like the millionth time, Molly Hernandez is losing something important to her. 

 

She lays Alex and Xavin on the ground, then looks back at their home, falling apart before her eyes. Though the ground shakes beneath her feet, Molly can’t bring herself to move, overcome with grief at the loss of the last safe space she’d known. Where will they go now? How will they survive without a place to rest their heads at night?

 

There’s a noise behind her, and Molly turns around, wiping at her eyes. She’s hoping to go to her sister- her brave, stupid sister- and give her the longest hug possible, but, currently, Gert is being coddled over by her Mother Hen of a boyfriend, so that’s currently out of the question. She could go over and bother them, but they seem pretty absorbed in each other at the moment. Gert is laid across Chase’s lap, teasing him as he checks her over. He’s got that look in his eyes that he always gets whenever Gert’s around, lovey-dovey and warm. She’s poking at his cheek, now, clearly still a little delirious, so, yeah, Molly is fine where she is for now. 

 

She looks around, counting heads and making sure everyone is- marginally- alright. The sun is setting, now, so it’s a bit difficult, but she manages. Gert and Chase, already accounted for, Alex and Xavin, the same...oh, no. Oh, no, she’s forgotten someone-  _ two _ someones.

 

“Guys,” she starts, suddenly panicked, “where are Nico and Karolina?”

 

**__________**

 

Oh, this is bad. This is very, very bad. Karolina’s home is falling down around her, the whole world is shaking like it’s a snow globe that has just been picked up by a very impulsive child, and worst of all, she can’t find her  _ fucking  _ girlfriend. 

 

Dodging falling ceiling tiles and chunks of plaster, Karolina zooms around the room, the panic rising as she calls Nico’s name over and over into the ether. What if she’s hurt? What if she’s hurt, and Karolina can’t reach her, and she loses her forever, oh God, oh no, this is so, so bad. Karolina can’t function without Nico! She can barely do math- who would help her calculate the tip at restaurants? Those poor servers, getting a twenty cent tip on a meal because stupid Karolina lost her girlfriend in an earthquake. Poor Karolina, actually, who will 100% die if she doesn’t find Nico in the next two minutes, either from a ceiling chunk falling on her head or emotional turmoil. Probably both. 

 

Bile climbing up her throat, Karolina pauses in mid-air, trying to calm herself down. She gulps, feeling as though she’s just swallowed knives, then calls, in one last ditch attempt, one last desperate grab,  _ “NICO!” _

 

Her voice echoes throughout the room, and for a moment, everything is quiet. Even the shaking stops, if only for a moment. It’s a tense kind of stillness, like she’s frozen in place- stuck.

 

And then, ever so quiet, there’s Nico’s voice, hoarse and choked but still clear as day to Karolina. “Over- over here, Karrie.”

 

She zooms towards her girlfriend, her landline, her eye of the fucking storm- whatever. Whatever, because she sees her, now, sees Nico, huddled underneath the rubble that had fallen against the wall, with Tina crumpled beside her. At least, Karolina thinks it’s Tina. She’s not really paying attention to much else besides her girlfriend’s face, pained and streaked with something dark that could be dirt or blood or God knows what. 

 

Karolina hits the ground running, racing towards Nico in such a frantic manner that she ends up falling on her ass. The momentum keeps her going, though, sending her sliding towards her girlfriend like she’s just hit home base in the last thirty seconds of a softball game, the most perfect home run imaginable.

 

“Hi, are you okay, come here, what happened?” Karolina babbles as she grabs Nico, pulling her into her arms and holding her close. Nico makes a sound halfway through a sniffle and a laugh, and Karolina hugs her even harder. 

 

She pulls back a little, grabbing Nico’s face as gently as her panic allows and checking her over. Thankfully, the streaks on her face that she’d noticed before really were just dirt- thank God. Karolina breathes a heavy sigh of relief, and Nico cracks a smile.

 

“You were really worried, huh?”

 

“Of course I was worried,” Karolina replies, the words coming out in a rush. She leans in, pressing a few quick pecks to her girlfriend’s face, random but gentle. “I love you.”

 

Nico grins, opening her mouth to respond- but is cut off by a loud, pained groan beside them. They both startle, turning to Tina, the originator of the noise. She’s woken up, just barely, as if she’s Homophobia Coming Out Of Her Well To Shame Gays. She blinks blearily, slurring out, “Nico? What’s going on?”

 

Karolin rolls her eyes. “Wow, what am I, hot garbage?”

 

Nico swats at her lightly, turning to her mother and asking trepidatiously, “...Mom? Is that- I mean, are you, y’know...you?”

 

Tina frowns. “What do you mean? Of course I’m  _ me. _ Oh, dear, my head feels so…” she trails off, clutching at her skull. 

 

Nico reaches out, cautiously putting a hand on her mother’s arm. She and Karolina trade a look, and suddenly she knows what they’re both wondering-  _ is she in control? _

 

Tina grabs Nico’s hand, patting it clumsily. “What’s...what’s going on? I don’t- I feel like I don’t remember anything…”

 

Their eyes meet again, and Karolina can see that Nico 100% believes that this is her mother, and there will be nothing Karolina can do to sway her. 

 

She opens her mouth to try anyway, to make an attempt- but before she can, the room starts to shake once more, stronger and twice as violent as before. 

 

Karolina grabs Nico around the waist and pulls her from beneath the outcropping, lightning fast- and just in time, too. Mere milliseconds after she does so, a large chunk of rock shudders and falls with a loud  _ thunk,  _ separating them from Nico’s mother.

 

She swallows, then activates her powers, scooping up Nico and leaping into the air. It’s a split second decision, and she doesn’t even think about who she’s just left behind until Nico starts to struggle against her, panicked as she asks, “What are you doing? Go back! We can’t just- don’t  _ leave her!” _

 

Karolina holds Nico tighter, replying through clenched teeth, “Stop fighting. I’ll go back for her when you’re safe.”

 

“No, go back  _ now-“ _

 

“Nico, you’re more important, okay? And I- I can’t do this forever!”

 

It’s true. She’s been fighting for what feels like hours, and she’s running out of juice. Her powers are lagging, even as they soar through a broken section of roof into the dusky sky. It doesn’t help that Nico is still struggling, pounding weakly against Karolina’s chest as she wails like a small child. She wants so badly to comfort her, to do as she asks, but all Karolina can focus on is her need to get Nico to safety. 

 

She scans the area for her friends, and spots them almost immediately, congregated on a patch of grass a safe distance away from what was once their home. She zooms towards them, stone-faced and numb as Nico continues to bawl. She knows if she let herself feel, let herself truly absorb the situation, she wouldn’t be able to handle it; so this is the only way to get through it. This is the only way to survive.

 

Karolina lands beside her friends, laying Nico gently on the soft green grass as they start to crowd around her. They bombard her with questions, but the only voice Karolina hears is Nico’s, quiet and hoarse as she whispers, “Please...please, Karolina.”

 

She gulps, then nods, ignoring her friends’ cries as she shoots back into the sky, shoving down her reservations as she returns to what was once her home, the walls shaking and ceiling crumbling as she makes a beeline for the corner where Nico and her mother had found shelter. With a shakily focused blast of light, Karolina pushes the boulder blocking the entrance to the side. Tina lies on the ground just behind it, crumpled and covered in dirt- but alive. Karolina grabs her around the waist, and, with difficulty, pushes herself back into the sky. The distance between the Hostel and her friends is much more shakily travelled, this time. 

 

The landing is much rougher, this time. Her knees scrape against the ground, and her breathing is laboured- but they’re safe. They’re safe, and everything will be okay. 

 

At least, Karolina hopes so.

 

**__________**

This can’t be happening right now. Her mother is lying in front of her, broken and battered, and this can’t be happening right now.

 

Nico is knelt in the grass, hands shaking as she strokes her mother’s face, scraped and bruised in the worst places. In a quiet whisper, she begs, “Please wake up. Please wake up, Mom.”

 

She waits with bated breath in the heavy silence, terrified. Her friends, sensing the gravity of the situation, have stepped away, and Nico doesn’t know whether to be grateful or angry. Actually, no- she’s definitely grateful. She doesn’t know if she can handle looking at Karolina right now. 

 

Before she can stew on that, there’s a loud gasp- and then sickly coughing, like an asmatic seal smoking its first cigarette. Her mother is awake, and though she was begging for this mere seconds ago, Nico finds herself wishing she’d just go back to sleep.

 

Mom looks terrible. She looks like she got thrown into a dump truck and got sent through the compressor, like she’s something a wild animal swallowed but vomited back up because she tasted just that disgusting. But she’s alive, and she’s breathing, and she’s looking up at Nico with a clear gaze, so maybe she should stop complaining.

 

Nico swallows, an unsteady hand gently stroking her mother’s cheek. “Hi, mom.”

 

“Hi, sweetheart,” her mother croaks, using a pet name Nico hasn’t heard from her since Amy died. Despite the anomaly, she still knows that this is her mother, not the Gibb- she can just  _ tell. _ Even just from the way she speaks, the way she whispers, “Are you okay?”

 

Nico nods, eyes filled with tears. “Yeah, Mom. Are you?”

 

Her mother swallows, eyes shifting from Nico’s face to stare up at the night sky, spattered with bright, shining stars. In a quiet voice, Mom asks, “Do you remember that song I used to sing to you when you were small?”

 

Her brows crease. “Wh-what?”

 

“The one from that movie you and your sister liked...about the mice?” She speaks as though it’s hard for her, as if it hurts even to open her mouth. “I remember...you used to beg me to sing you the lullaby, every night. You’d be out like a light before I even finished the second verse.”

 

Mom smiles a little, her bloodied lips making it seem more like a grimace. In a quiet, hoarse voice, she starts to sing,  _ “Dream by night, wish by day, love begins this way. Loving starts when open hearts touch, and stay.” _

Nico’s chest starts to constrict as she realizes what her mother is doing. “Mom...mom, no…”

 

Mom shakes her head, reaching to grab her hand and squeeze before continuing,  _ “Love it seems, made flying dreams, so hearts, could soar. Heaven sent, these wings were meant to prove, once more. That love is the key...love is the key. You and I...touch the sky...the eagle and the dove…” _

 

She trails off, unable to go on. In a quiet voice, she says, “I...I always did like that song.”

 

Nico nods, tears streaming down her face, now. She wants nothing more than to fight this, to tell her to stop, to beg her not to leave, but she knows it would never work. Once her mother decides upon something, there’s no swaying her on it. Even when it’s saying goodbye. “Me- me, too.”

Mom swallows, eyes turned to the night sky. “Do you think she’ll be angry with me?”

 

Though she suspects she knows the answer, Nico still asks, “Who, Mom?”

 

“Your sister.” 

 

Nico’s eyes fall closed as she lets out a small sigh. “No, no, I don’t. Give her- give her a hug for me, o-okay?”

 

No response. Nico’s eyes snap open, suddenly panicked. Her mother’s eyes are empty, and her chest is no longer moving. Before she even checks her pulse, Nico knows that she’s dead. Her mother is dead, her sister is dead, and her father probably is, too. Nico is all alone in the world, she’s just watched her mother die, and suddenly, it’s all too much. She collapses onto her mother’s body with a broken sob, begging her to come back, begging her not to leave. She can’t  _ do this, _ can’t abandon her, can’t-

 

“Nico, look.”

 

She lifts her head at the sound of Alex’s voice, and is nearly blinded by a bright ball of swirling magenta light. With shaking hands, she retrieves Pandora’s box from her pocket- she doesn’t remember how it got there, but she’s grateful either way. With shaking hands, she presses against the latch, and it snaps open, sucking the ball of light inside, snugly against its green companion, before clapping shut once more.

 

She looks up at Alex, nearly overcome by pain and loss and grief. “She’s- she’s gone, isn’t she?”

 

Alex kneels down beside her, eyes full of compassion as he nods. Nico collapses into his shoulder, finally losing the resolve and strength she’d maintained all these months.

 

And as she sobs into Alex’s t-shirt, soaking it in tears without a care in the world, Nico wonders if she’ll ever be able to find it again.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
